Snowfall
by shattered petal
Summary: For the past three years, he believed she was dead. -HitsuMatsu
1. Three

**Title**: Snowfall  
**Rating**: T  
**Genres**: Angst/Romance  
**Couple**: HitsuMatsu

* * *

Snowfall  
**Chapter 1.**

* * *

His stare was as cold as Winter.

Freezing, Shinigami shivered around him, waiting for the order. Flakes of snow met the soft material of their uniforms, melting. Less than ten minutes ago, the War had ceased, but _never_ would he call _that_ a War. It barely lasted long. To him, it had been a massacre. Very few Shinigami fell victim to death, although death had embraced them once before. Yet it had been chaotic, unorganised, reeking with insanity. A desperate cry for who was right. Violence, however, did not judge the winner. Violence merely judged the weakest, and strongest. A winner did not rise in victory because he knew the ways of the zanpakutō better than another.

A fellow commander approached, for he had not spoken. 'Captain Hitsugaya, it's over.'

If that was so, then why did he feel so tense? Turning, he looked over at Ukitake, before dropping his gaze. It was a miracle the elder Shinigami managed to fight for so long, despite his decreasing health. 'I know,' he said, voice low. Sharp, green eyes searched the frozen hills. Corpses belonging to that of the Quincy scattered the white blanket, snow burying their bodies. 'Has Kuchiki returned?'

'Yes. I commanded her to head back with the rest of the Division.'

'Oh.' Tōshirō fell silent.

'And Matsumoto?'

'No.' He narrowed his brows. 'I can sense her spiritual pressure, but it is very weak.' It was unlikely that Rangiku had gone so far that they could no longer sense each other. Tōshirō believed the worst had happened. Or was _going_ to happen. The field was _huge_, too far to search for a falling comrade. Although it was her duty to protect his back, Tōshirō made it quite clear he only wanted her to fight, and not worry over him. He saw in her eyes her doubt, her reluctance, a little hint of sadness, but she would never disobey him.

Tōshirō waited. Ukitake stepped forwards, a gesture that he was willing to search for Hitsugaya's Vice-Captain. Yet, to his horror, Tōshirō swivelled around on his heel and walked away. The older Captain didn't know how to respond. They were of the same rank, so it wouldn't be inappropriate of him to scold Tōshirō for giving up on Rangiku like that. Those two had been working together for longer than he and Rukia. Was Hitsugaya so cold he was willing to throw away a past without a thought? Did Matsumoto mean _nothing_ to him?

No, surely not. Ukitake knew Hitsugaya was a cold, stubborn man. To walk _away_ from someone so valuable to him, though? That wasn't cold. That was disloyalty, neglect. 'She's probably still alive, Captain Hitsugaya.'

Tōshirō stopped, and Ukitake studied his expression. Blank. Not even a hint of regret. 'In those few seconds standing beside you, I slowly felt her spirit disappear. Now, I feel nothing. No warmth, no distant heartbeat, nothing.' A pause, but Jūshirō knew what he was going to say next. 'Matsumoto's dead.' To hear these words escape Hitsugaya's lips wasn't right. Ukitake had always thought someone would inform _Hitsugaya_ about her passing, but he never wished something so dreadful be cast upon such a wonderful woman.

'Captain––'

'You'll freeze if you remain out here any longer.' Tōshirō continued his way back. 'I'd hate for you to fall ill, Captain Ukitake.'

What Jūshirō didn't know was the effect. The impact. Hitsugaya had waited, focussed entirely on her reiatsu. Usually, it was so strong, almost burning his skin, and yet, now, he was cold. Still. The man may as well have been stabbed through the chest, it was so sudden, so horrible. _Painful_. Yet, it was his personal rule to not mourn the dead, to not rush after their ghosts in the hopes they might still be alive. Matsumoto was gone, the snow shall bury her body, and he would continue. A soldier was useless if he pleaded for others, if he _needed_ someone.

No matter how he felt, _never_ would Tōshirō go back for a comrade. _Never_. It was survival of the fittest. The fittest survived. Eat, or be eaten. Hitsugaya was a dragon, fangs sharp, claws pointing, like daggers. A furious beast, untamed, and hard. As cold as the mountain tops. Even if his heart was close to bursting, Hitsugaya would never allow his emotions to take control. His presence was required elsewhere; a dead body did not _need_ him.

Of course he knew Jūshirō wasn't impressed. Loyalty, to him, was in the most clearest sense. If Rukia's spiritual pressure had begun to fade away, Ukitake would have found her. He was a warm gentleman, who cared. Glancing at him over his shoulder, Tōshirō admired him somewhat, but he knew he would never be warm, never embrace the fire.

For the fire had already died out.

* * *

**Three Years Later.**

* * *

Grabbing onto the bar above, Tōshirō lifted himself, before lowering, lifting, lowering, the muscles in his arms tensing, expanding from his movement. For the next seven minutes, his feet never touched the ground, keeping himself in the air, clinging onto the bar. The more he pulled, the faster his heartbeat became, pounding against his ribcage. He inhaled sharply every time he rose, exhaling slowly when relieving himself a little. The man's eyes swerved to the Shinigami beside him, holding a folder.

Dropping to the floor, he wiped a hand through his hair, and looked at him. 'What?'

'Captain Hitsugaya, the Captain-Commander wanted me to remind you that your position for Vice-Captain is still open. It has been for the past three years.'

'I know that.'

'You _have_ been searching for a replacement, haven't you?'

Tōshirō glared at him, before picking up his bottle of water and drinking some. 'I do my work. That's all that matters. So, _yes_, I _have_ been searching for a replacement, but the majority that are sent my way are not only incompetent but lack character.' The other Shinigami cocked a brow, finding it hypocritical that _this_ man would talk about _character_. He was so blank. An open space.

'If you're struggling because of––'

'Because of what?' Hitsugaya challenged, approaching the bar. 'Because of Matsumoto's death? Please.' It was impressive how his voice didn't waver or tremble from saying her name. Maybe he didn't mean anything to her. Or, maybe, he was so rotten and cruel, he just _wouldn't care _anyway. 'She proved her incompetence on the battlefield. Believe me, I am not mourning.'

'Obviously.'

'If you intend to use sarcasm, then I suggest you leave now. Otherwise, I shan't be responsible for my actions.'

At once the Shinigami stopped talking, watching the Captain prepare to lift himself some more. However, just as Tōshirō was about to latch onto the bar, the door opened. In came a man, deep, red hair, tied back. His skin was tanned, tattoos viewable beneath his lose uniform. Tōshirō narrowed his brows. 'Abarai? What are you doing? I thought it was clear I prefer to be alone,' he said, glancing over at the other Shinigami, who took this as an order to leave. As he did so, Renji came forwards, inspecting the white-haired male.

'I'm here to check up on you.'

'Really?' Hitsugaya nodded, sighing. 'I'm touched, but I'm _fine_. I've become sick of the same question, wondering if I'm all right. Why wouldn't I be?'

'I don't know. It's just been almost four years since––'

'––Since Matsumoto died. I know.' Tōshirō sounded like a robot, a machine, completely unnerved. 'Have you come to inform me anything interesting?' He jumped up, grabbing onto the bar and lifting himself.

Renji shoved a hand into his pocket. 'It's hard to interest you with anything, Captain. The War over the Quincy––'

'_That_ wasn't a War.'

'Whatever. It's been given a name, to go down in history some people say.'

'Uh-Huh.' Tōshirō grunted, lifting himself more roughly. 'Yes, that one time we absolutely crushed the Quincy. What's there to report about that? Each one of them deserved their fate, and this reminder is nothing more than a nuisance.'

'Do you want to know the name or not?'

'No.'

'Right. You'll probably hear it from someone else, anyway.' Renji eyed him, then exhaled. It was a sad image of Hitsugaya. Lately, he had been exercising not to be healthy, but to release something, a tension, a frustration. 'You're exhausted, Captain. You should sleep.'

'I'm fine.'

The Captain was certainly pushing himself. Renji could see his forehead sweating, the pain in his expression when he jarred his teeth. 'You fought well that day. I probably should have said this earlier, but it was impressive how well you managed your zanpakutō. I'm not surprised the Quincy got "crushed" as you put it.' He cocked a brow. 'Yet you walked away feeling nothing.'

Hitsugaya's hands slipped from the bar and his feet slammed to the ground, breaths heavy, chest heaving. Sweat dripped to the floor, and he raised his head to look at Renji. For one split second, everything was revealed, _everything_. Anguish, despair, sadness, a horrible, ugly anger. One desperate to rip out, and scream at Hell, at the World. At her.

'I should leave you be,' Abarai said, nodding shortly.

Waiting until he had left the room, the door shut firmly, Tōshirō instantly collapsed, trying to catch his breath. In private, there was no point hiding it anymore. Raising his knees, he bowed his head, attempting to stay calm, steady. His mind spun, quick, fast, restless. Both arms were trembling, and his foot repeatedly tapped. _Tap, tap, tap, tap_. The room slowly decreased in temperature, and ice crawled towards his form, twisting around his legs, like a snake.

Although it had been three years, he still struggled to remove the memory, to forget about her. That was wishful thinking, though. Ridiculous. Pathetic. Tōshirō was more Human than he would ever admit. His emotions were fierce and powerful, but he couldn't let them take control. He couldn't. It was much too late. Standing to his aching feet, Hitsugaya grabbed his water bottle, and left.

In many respects, he did _need_ a Vice-Captain. The office was lonely, empty, lacking something. Even though Hitsugaya was fond of isolation, that didn't mean he worked _best_ in it. Or, more, he required a hand, too much work for one person. Glancing over at the empty desk, he did wonder if he had been harsh on those who could have been his partner. The majority weren't incompetent. In fact, they would most likely do a better job than Rangiku ever had.

Yet they weren't _her_. Why should that matter, though? No one was like Rangiku, the same as no one was like him or Renji. To _look_ for someone like her completely went against his rule. Lifting his head, he turned to the door when it opened. A familiar face appeared.

'Ah, Ise,' he said.

'Captain Kyōraku wanted to give you these.' As always, Nanao meant no funny business. She were to deliver these reports, then leave. Despite not knowing each other that well, Nanao was one of few people Hitsugaya managed to get along with. Passing him the folder, Tōshirō took it. She hesitated for a second, dark eyes on him. 'How have you been?'

The amount of times he had heard that question. 'Fine,' he replied, more interested in what was inside the folder.

'With all due respect, Captain, you don't look "fine".'

'Maybe so, but I am.' He flicked his eyes up to hers. 'You haven't been well, I know.'

'Excuse me.' Nanao raised a brow. 'Why would you care?' That was crossing the line, but she had crossed the line many times before. Ise was a blunt, yet professional woman. If she didn't like the way Tōshirō was behaving, she wouldn't tell him bluntly, but subtly. It was one of the reasons he found her presence quite tolerable. She was honest.

'I just do.'

It was very clear how she felt. Since her best friend's passing, Nanao had been equally as lonely as he. It was remarkable how much of an effect Matsumoto's company made. As soon as she was gone, so was the brightness in his and her life. Nanao missed her, missed her dearly. Missed her taunts, dumb comments and jokes, and how much she cared. She missed everything about her, Rangiku's flaws and wonderful traits. Her death was one Nanao did not accept well.

'I've been the same,' Ise replied shortly, and made her way out.

'Me too.'

Rarely did Tōshirō let the mask slip. Glancing at him, she watched the Captain continue with work, and her expression softened. He had opened slightly, let her in on his emotions, told her that he secretly felt the same, that he missed Rangiku too. Yet there wasn't anything they could do about it. Nanao might have been more sympathetic if Tōshirō expressed more, if he wasn't so locked away and cold, so dismissive. Never _once_ did he mention Matsumoto's death unless someone brought the topic up.

Only up till now did she realise that the Captain possibly cared. It was hard to tell. She spent the past three years hating him for how he responded. For his _nothingness_. That, after everything Rangiku had done for him, after everything he had done for her, and everything they had done together, he didn't even shed one _tear_ when she died.

To mourn over ghosts. A waste of time, he once said to her.

And she would never forget.

* * *

The stars glared at him that night. Walking home late was something Hitsugaya enjoyed. He liked the cool breeze in his hair, the isolation of the streets and darkness. One might call him miserable for liking these aspects, but, ever since he was a child, Hitsugaya was fond of this time of day. After working for hours, he felt good about himself. Felt like he had achieved something.

Entering his apartment, Tōshirō stripped down to his boxers and switched on the radio. Voices from the speakers were muffled to his ears; he was distracted. After pouring himself a warm mug of tea, Tōshirō approached his bedroom, and his eyes cast towards the wardrobe. Sipping at his drink, he opened one of the doors, inspected the clothing inside. There were a variety of shirts, ties and jeans. Some fancy coats which he hadn't worn in years.

Quickly, he closed the door and exited the bedroom. Many of those clothes were not bought by him. Rangiku had been insistent on buying him clothes, and he thought she may as well. Rangiku spent more time shopping than working anyway, so it made sense. It had been a long time since he received any new clothes, though, or bought himself any. He never thought about doing that sort of thing. Besides, he was quite content with what was inside his wardrobe.

Still, there was an odd sensation which swelled in his stomach whenever he picked out a shirt she bought for him. Or a tie, or trousers. It felt weird. Very weird. The woman who bought him these things was no longer alive.  
In many ways, he was tempted to throw these clothes away. Get rid of the memory, what horrible images the clothes gave him.

'––_three years since the Frozen War_––' Tōshirō switched the radio off at once.

Frozen War. That was what they were calling it. A _War_. Frozen. Very funny. Hitsugaya scowled. Yes, he had been frozen that time, frozen at the heart, soul and mind. Placing his mug of tea aside, Tōshirō slowly sat down, running a hand through his hair.

His apartment very much reflected his work ethic: cold, unwelcome, organised. There was barely anything in it, aside from a few books, settee and the odd essential equipment. The walls were white, heating off. A lonely place for a lonely man. Yet he didn't care. He didn't notice. Raising himself, the Captain headed to bed, ready to dream.

* * *

Scolding hot coffee in hand, Nanao cursed to herself for not looking at the time. For the past four hours, she had been stuck in her latest novel. There were many flaws she spotted in the writing, but, if she looked past those (with difficulty), she actually enjoyed it. Thankfully, her coffee was decaffeinated, so she would sleep without a problem. Placing her novel down, Nanao stood up and closed the curtains in her living room. It was time for bed.

However, she stopped short when the doorbell rang. Rarely did she receive visitors and, in all fairness, she wasn't _fond_ of visitors in the middle of the night. With sheer reluctance, Nanao proceeded for the door, muttering about "there are better times", and opened it.

A pause.

Suddenly, she forgot how to breathe.

The mug dropped from her hand, and smashed, china shattering.

'Rangiku?'


	2. Coffee

Snowfall  
**Chapter 2.**

* * *

Shock was not the correct phrase. What Nanao felt could not be described. At first, she felt upset, a horrible, doubting feeling swelling in her stomach, causing tears to sting her eyes. Then, anger. Hot anger, ready to burst and snap. So many emotions bubbled and threw themselves at her, she didn't know how to contain herself. There, before her, was a woman she believed to be dead for the past three years. Rangiku Matsumoto was alive, breathing, and right in front of her.

Nanao had never been in this position before. The only reasonable thing to do was welcome Rangiku inside, but instead she yelled at her, 'What do you think you're doing here!? I _hate_ it when you show up without telling me––' That was all she could manage. Ise had to stop, knowing that the tears would appear very soon if she wasn't careful. 'And I spilt my coffee everywhere!' Who was she kidding? Of _course_ she was going to cry. The tears came pouring down her cheeks, and she roughly wiped them away.

'I thought you liked surprises, though.'

Seriously? Rangiku was making a joke _now_? Glaring at her, Nanao wanted to just push her back outside. 'How dare you approach me like this?'

Rangiku wasn't stupid. Her smile dropped and she softened her expression. The last thing she expected Nanano to do was instantly accept that she was alive. Matsumoto had been gone for _three_ whole years, almost four. It wouldn't _just_ be Ise who felt shocked, but, for the moment, Nanao was the only person Matsumoto wanted to confront. 'I'm sorry.'

'Sorry? _You're_ sorry? What for, Rangiku? For making me believe you were dead after all this time? How would _you_ feel? Did you even consider that?'

'Please let me talk to you,' Rangiku pleaded, placing her hands at Nanao''s shoulders. 'You need to let me speak, Nanao, otherwise you're just going to stand here crying and shouting at me. And I don't like that. Crying doesn't suit you.'

'_Lying_ doesn't suit _you_, either.'

That shut her up for a moment. However, Nanano knew she was right. Rangiku had to explain herself, even if Ise would never forgive her. She needed to make things clear, or clear_er_. Wiping a few stray tears, Nanao stepped aside, and walked to the kitchen. She needed to distract herself. Make another cup of coffee. She wasn't going to ask if Rangiku wanted one. The anger was really beginning to settle in now.

Rangiku didn't feel taken aback. She didn't expect anything. In fact, on her way here, she was nervous, and maybe a little excited. Nervous because she _knew_ she had done a terrible thing, and she didn't know how her best friend would respond. But excited, because, after so many years, they would meet again. How _much_ she had missed Nanao. Yet to see her this way, crying, angry, frustrated, _heartbroken_–– it tore her apart. To actually _think_ she mattered that much to someone.

Hesitating, Rangiku stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She could hear Nanao in the kitchen, flicking the kettle on, sniffing. The guilt started to take effect, but Matsumoto ignored this sensation. All she wanted was for Nanao to sit down with her, let her _speak_. Yes, maybe she wouldn't forgive her, and Rangiku wouldn't blame her. But, at least, give her a _chance_. _What I did was awful, but please hear me out_. Entering the kitchen, she silently watched Ise prepare herself coffee, noted how her hands were shaking when she picked up the kettle.

There was still the shattered coffee mug in the other room, but Matsumoto thought it would be wise to let Nanao take her time. Matsumoto's appearance had been sudden, unexpected, and, in a way, _unwanted_. Nanao had finally come to accept Rangiku was gone, only to have her appear at her door seconds later. It was cruel and unfair.

'Nanao––'

'First, Rangiku, _first_, I want you to tell me if you're all right.'

And Matsumoto loved her for that. Nanao was hurt badly, but she was more concerned about Rangiku, cared about her more than anything. 'I'm fine. Of course I'd feel better if you cheered up.'

'I'm not upset,' Nanao said, holding her coffee mug.

Rangiku stepped over and brought her arms around Ise's shoulders, hugging her tightly. Although her friend didn't return the affection, she didn't push her away either. 'I'm sorry.'

'What happened?' Nanao's voice was still snappy, but it had lightened a little.

Even though she had been gone awhile, Rangiku looked very much the same, her hair at its usual, long length, eyes as blue as the sky. Yet she noticed a relief in her, she stepped more lightly, as if there was nothing weighing her down anymore. The fatigue was gone. She looked– _pure_. 'I needed a break.'

'Why didn't you tell me?'

Rangiku opened her mouth to speak, but retreated. There were many reasons why she didn't tell Ise, didn't tell her if she was alive. Although Rangiku cared deeply for Nanao, her trust still wavered. This was the same for everyone Matsumoto knew. She struggled to trust somebody completely, due to a harsh past, and to inform Ise that she was alive and _trust _she would not tell anyone was too risky. Plus, Rangiku didn't _want_ to tell her. The decision was sudden, but it was final, and she wasted no time to act on it. Selfish. Matsumoto, indirectly, had always been selfish.

Sighing, she took hold of Nanao's hand and led her to the settee where they sat down together. Rangiku avoided her question. 'I'd had enough.' This was the main cause, but there was more. 'The one person I trusted the most left me. He didn't come back to check if I was still alive, to make sure that I was _certainly_ dead. Nanao, if you care for someone, you'd make sure that they were dead, right?'

It was a crude question, but she nodded. 'You're talking about Captain Histugaya?'

'If he was content to turn his back on me, then––' Rangiku stopped. Thinking about it now, she already felt angry. 'Kyōraku would have gone back for you. That's the loyalty between a commanding officer and his Lieutenant. I know that Captain Hitsugaya is cold––'

'He's got worse.' By her tone, Rangiku could still tell Nanao was angry at her, but her anger seemed split, directed at another too. '_Nothing_ can break him. I bet, if he watched the entire Human race die before him, he wouldn't even bat an eye. I know this sounds disgusting, Rangiku, but if he had to watch you be tortured, he wouldn't say anything, he wouldn't _care_. That man is colder than Hyōrinmaru. I can't imagine him thinking twice about your death. That's why he left so easily. When he came back, when he told me you were gone––' the tears stung her eyes again, and her voice croaked, '––he was like a robot. He didn't care. Almost as if you were nothing to him, and that–––'

'Shh,' Rangiku shuffled closer, held Nanao close. 'It's all right.'

'––that made me so angry. Even after so long, he didn't express any grief over your death. He doesn't even get angry anymore, Rangiku. He's so _numb_.'

Rangiku continued to hold Nanao, and she wanted to just nod and accept that Hitsugaya was cold about her disappearance. But Ise's words were like daggers to her heart. Not only did Tōshirō not consider searching for her, he didn't _care_. What she said, sounded familiar. Familiar of someone else she knew, but she wasn't sure who. Not Gin. Gin didn't lack emotion, in a way. Not like Hitsugaya. Gin was different. No, this other person, was distant, almost a ghost. A fragment of a memory she didn't recognise. Yet she knew this memory was ugly, because of how it made her feel.

To imagine Hitsugaya not acknowledging her passing on, made Rangiku want to explode in fury. What she would do if her Captain died, how she would behave and respond. How she would _cope_, if at all. For so long, her entire attention was on _him_, on his heart, to keep it beating. In many regards, she was his shield, prepared to barricade him from attacks. After what she had done for him, Hitsugaya deserted her on the battlefield, without even a glance back.

_As if I were nothing_.  
_Just a toy soldier_.

'I'm sick of being deserted,' Rangiku finally confessed. 'My Captain deserted me. If he felt that way, then I decided I was no use to him. Maybe that was wrong, but I was so upset and angry at him. I wanted to get away. He believed I was dead, and I–– I've had enough of running back. I didn't want to be abandoned by the same people again and again, and expect to come running into their arms every time. I didn't want to be like that.'

That sounded justified, but Nanao still wasn't certain. Raising her head to look at her, Ise exhaled, 'I wouldn't have left you.'

'I know,' Rangiku nodded. _You're not him_. 'But I would have to see him every day after that, live with the fact he pushed me aside like his broken toy.' She was a warm soul, very warm, but Matsumoto had her moments, and that had been a _big_ moment. _I can't be nice all the time_. 'I didn't want to give him that satisfaction, that security of knowing I'm easy to push away.'

She began to feel tense, horrible all over, so stood to her feet. Rangiku needed to move. Now, her mind was filled with him, his cold, frightening gaze. Thick, white hair, freezing touch. She might have ran away from him, or deserted him, but he never left her mind. It was hard to not think about him. Of _course_ she missed him, missed him awfully, but why should she? He wouldn't miss her. Nanao make it quite clear that he didn't.

'I've always been pushed away,' she muttered, remembering Gin's words: _you're in my way, Ran._ In the way. An obstacle to jump over. A burden. Tōshirō wasn't bothered about her, hence him ordering Rangiku to stray from his side. He _wanted_ her to die. To get her out of _his_ way. No, no she shouldn't jump to conclusions so drastically.

Nanao stood up and approached her friend. 'Why did you come back?'

'Because I missed everyone, and that I'm sorry. I was ready to return.' _Ready to be selfish again. _No one else mattered, just Rangiku. _Fucking selfish bitch_. 'Are you still mad at me?'

'No... Not really.'

Rangiku raised her brows. 'I bought you some nice things.'

Nanao shrugged.

'Some jewellery, nice new pair of glasses––'

'You do know I require a specific lens, right?'

'I also remembered you have a terrible set of shoes, so bought you some new ones.'

'I––' Nanao's ears burned. 'Excuse you, my footwear is fine!'

Rangiku smiled crookedly. 'And some lingerie––'

'_What_?!'

'It's been a while since I bought you any, so I thought you needed some.'

'I don't need _lingerie_! For God's sake, Rangiku!' Ise turned away from her, more frustrated than angry. 'I sincerely hope you didn't get anything else.'

'Well, I did bump into a couple of gentleman, who were very keen to have your number––'

'_Rangiku_, no!' Ise whirled around to glare at her, cheeks blushing a bright red. She was the least bit amused when her friend started laughing. 'If you've told them––'

'You're so silly, Nanao! Why would I tell them? I'm not that bad of a friend, but I maybe said I'll introduce you to them, maybe one day, maybe.'

'That's not happening.'

'They were _nice_.'

'Is that supposed to tempt me?'

Rangiku didn't answer. She smiled, 'I've really missed you.'

Nanao felt an odd relief rush through her. She wasn't a very open woman, but, for Rangiku, she was going to be, especially after how distant they were. 'It's not been the same without you around. I'm really happy you're back.'

It was sweet, and touching, but the guilt lingered. Rangiku knew what she did was wrong, and Nanao had been a wonderful friend to accept her back. Yet she knew Ise would welcome her, she always would, they were close friends and always had been. Rangiku's Captain, however, would be less pleased, less emotional. _Blunt_. Dismissive.

Hugging Nanao close again, Matsumoto decided to not think about him for now.

'Where are these things anyway?'

'Oh!' Rangiku grinned. 'At the place I'm staying at, not too far from here. Come, lemme show you!'

'No, I'm going to sleep. You bloody well _disturbed_ me.'

'Pfft, sleep is for the weak.'

'Rangiku, I have to go into work early tomorrow,' Nanao said, humour gone. She paused for a second, hesitating. 'I think you should come with me as well. It's not just me who has been missing you, and I think your Captain––'

'He's not my Captain anymore, Nanao.'

Nanao hoped she was lying, that she was joking, but Matsumoto was serious. 'Whatever you say, Rangiku. I do think he'd like to see you, though.'

'After everything you've just told me? I doubt he'd care.'

'You know him better than I do.'

And she did. Rangiku frowned, wanting to refuse, to maintain her pride, but she wouldn't. Looking at Nanao, she decided to trust her friend on this one. 'Fine. I'll come with you.' To be honest, she did _want_ to return to the Gotei again, to continue working there. That place was her life, what she lived for. She had missed the Gotei tremendously. However, she just needed to be accepted back.

* * *

Surprisingly, the majority she bumped into were–– well, not _nonchalant_, but relieved and confused. Some thought this was a sick joke, someone pretending to be her, but soon they were convinced. Rangiku met many familiar faces, was hugged countless times, and she honestly didn't feel like she deserved the affection, the joy. The shock. She didn't deserve how much people _cared_, because even though she was touched, there was only one person she wanted to see. Yet he wasn't around, never showed his face. Either he hadn't heard or–– _or he doesn't care_.

While Nanao was absent with work, Renji seemed particularly keen to spend his free time with the former Vice-Captain. Rangiku knew Abarai wanted to talk about Hitsugaya, how he treated her, and how he had been lately, but whenever he attempted to bring up the topic, Rangiku instantly interrupted. She didn't want to talk about a man who felt _nothing_ for her, even though her heart fluttered at the thought of him. _I'm so pathetic_.

After some time, Renji encouraged Rangiku to train. He was enthusiastic about her returning to the Tenth Division, to earn her rightful position again, even after her absence. Matsumoto wasn't so sure herself, but she decided to take up on his offer. 'It has been a while since I used my zanpakutō, though.' Without having to hold the blade, she already felt nervous and uncertain. _I've lost confidence_.

'Don't worry. I'll just watch you, and we'll see where you're up to.'

Rangiku smiled at him. She wanted to feel touched and grateful, but she also wanted to just run away. _Again_. If things went wrong, it would be humiliating for her. They entered a large room, available for private tuition between a student and teacher. The possibility that Haineko had felt neglected by her wielder these past few years was high. Haineko was similar to her, if not a little more–– _moody and annoying_. Unsheathing her zanpakutō, Matsumoto felt nervous.

To call out the spirit after so long, was that possible? Haineko most likely wouldn't put in any effort if her wielder was going to act clumsy and worried. She was a hard spirit to please. Placing her hand above the one holding the zanpakutō, she flicked the hilt and made the call, 'Growl, Haineko.' A storm of ash crashed into the wall opposite, but Rangiku was disappointed when her zanpakutō suddenly ceased to perform its Shikai for less than three seconds.

Clearly Haineko was being uncooperative and sulky. _Just_ what Rangiku needed. Renji rubbed the back of his head, realising the problem. 'You know, sometimes she can act like a spoilt, rotten child.' Haineko could be incredibly lazy, lazier than Rangiku, which was one of the reasons she hadn't achieved Bankai yet.

Renji stepped forwards. 'She might feel encouraged if there was an opponent.'

'I doubt it.' Rangiku would just have to give her zanpakutō spirit a piece of her mind later. Just as she was about to sheathe the blade away, the door opened from the far side.

In an instant, the entire room fell cold. Rangiku inhaled sharply, watching Captain Hitsugaya walk in. Cold, fierce eyes looked at Renji once, before looking over to Matsumoto. The temperature decreased even further. 'You've become the centre of discussion around here.'

'I never knew you were one for gossip,' Rangiku replied, feeling tense when he approached her. Already, she could tell he was distant, far away, unreachable. Before, she felt close to him, despite his chilling persona. That she could _talk_ to him. Now, he shut her off completely. There was a horrible, ugly monster inside desperate to scream at her, she could tell.

It was enough to prove that her disappearance meant everything to this cold man.

And she missed him. Looking at him, seeing his eyes, hard face, everything, after so long, was _wonderful_. This moment would always mean something to her. Even if he didn't bat an eye at her unexpected appearance, Tōshirō being alive, breathing, was enough. For a moment, at least. Soon, she remembered why she was here. Why she had vanished from his sight.

'You shouldn't be here.'

'Are you going to order me to leave?'

'You might just leave anyway. Like last time.'

'Like–– _last time_?' Rangiku gripped her zanpakutō tighter. '_Last time_, _you_ were the one who left.'

He exhaled, breath heavy, eyes on her. His gaze was harsh, sharp, but she never looked away. 'For the past three years, you have been dead to me. That remains the same.'

_... You **are** dead to me_. Matsumoto felt her heart stop, and she stared at him. This man, she had known him since he was a little boy, lost and unwanted. She had approached him when he needed help, stood by his side from the very beginning. And, now, she was _dead_ to him. Finally, _finally_, she was angry, raging, blood boiling, so _angry_ at him for being so _cruel_ and _cold_. She didn't care anymore that Renji was watching the scene unfold, that Haineko was moody with her.

All she was aware of was this _bastard_. This son-of-a-bitch, who didn't even _hesitate_ to admit she was nothing to him.

The zanpakutō aimed straight for his chest––

* * *

**author's note**: _Don't_ be fooled by Hitsugaya's behaviour. We all know the truth. Yes, another cliffhanger. Don't hate me too much. Thank you **[ timelapse ]**, **sagitgirlth** and **[ Guest ]** for reviewing. **[ Guest ]**, I wasn't sure if you liked cliffhangers or not, so, if you don't, I'm very sorry ^^;. The next update shan't be as quick, but shall be soon, I promise. Thanks again!


	3. Photograph

Snowfall  
**Chapter 3.**

* * *

Matsumoto struggled to balance herself. Their zanpakutō clashed together, Hitsugaya's blade sharp, strong, forceful. Anger burst through her and she pushed, but her zanpakutō was no match against her commanding officer's. She could hear the blades cutting each other, but it would be wise of her to back down. Tōshirō looked at her, and she saw in his gaze shock, only a little, but it was there. Despite everything, he hadn't been expecting her attack.

Relieving their zanpakutō for a moment, Rangiku waited to see if he would apologise, take back what he said, but this man was awfully stubborn. So was she. Now, everything she trained for was chucked out of the window. Matsumoto couldn't concentrate. Trembling, she swerved the zanpakutō his way again, which he quickly defended, a loud _clang_ echoing the room. If Renji said anything, she couldn't hear him. All she was aware of was Hitsugaya, his cool, green eyes on her. Tōshirō knew exactly how to handle this; he continued to hinder her from swiping at him, blocking her zanpakutō. Rangiku was very speedy with the blade, but Tōshirō was more skilled, more aware, he knew her, knew how she would move. The man had witnessed his Vice-Captain spar on multiple occasions.

Yet, skill wasn't as lethal as one's spiritual pressure. Rangiku's was _scorching_, he could _feel_ his zanpakutō burning whenever his touched hers. His entire body felt like it was on fire, ice dripping to the ground. It was an uncomfortable and frustrating sensation. 'Stop this now,' he ordered, voice deep, but he wasn't yelling. He didn't _need_ to yell.

Relieving her zanpakutō for a moment, Rangiku looked at him, watched his frowning face distort, transform into a grin, eyes closing, hair flattening around his narrow, pointed face. A chuckle.

In a soft, slightly higher voice, Hitsugaya said, 'You're in my way.'

The ice he possessed twisted around her body, slithering, hissing, like a snake. Rangiku felt an inferno blast within her. Suddenly Hitsugaya was knocked back a little, the force from her blade a much stronger impact. Clinging to his zanpakutō, Tōshirō let her charge for him again, but all he did was defend himself. This was quite tricky. Matsumoto wasn't that bad. In fact, she would have easily knocked him down this way many years before. Tōshirō wasn't the same, though. He had constantly trained, practised, until very few were able to defeat him.

Rangiku knew she couldn't win. Duelling Tōshirō seemed to be the only reasonable thing to do, though. Tōshirō inhaled sharply, 'I'm not going to hurt you.' That was confirmation he had no desire to fight her, but she took this as an insult. He wasn't going to fight because he knew he was too much for her. Of course Rangiku couldn't beat him.

'Too late.' Their zanpakutō met again, but this time Hitsugaya Shunpo'd to the other side of the room.

'Matsumoto, stop this. You're only making it worse for yourself.'

'Worse for _me_, or for _you_?'

He wasn't going to dignify that with a response. Now, Hyōrinmaru was screaming at him, heavy in his hand. _Sheathe_. _I didn't receive my zanpakutō to fight __**you**_. 'Do you honestly intend to injure me? Tell me that.'

'Obviously I'm not able to,' she said impatiently.

'You've lost confidence. I can tell. You're shaking.'

'I didn't _ask_ for an assessment!'

'As your commanding officer, it is my duty to give you one. It is also my duty to inform you you were dismissed a long time ago, when you decided to play dead.'

'Well, maybe you shouldn't be my commanding officer anymore!'

Tōshirō let his expression slip. She had offended him. For a while, he was silent, staring at her. Lowering his head, he narrowed his brows. 'You are, Matsumoto, and you have been for as long as I can remember. I _don't_ forgive you for what you did––'

'Never did I say I wanted your forgiveness.'

'––But I know I was in the wrong as well.'

Even though he had sheathed his zanpakutō, Rangiku remained armed. She still had a foreign desire to attack him. When he approached her, she tensed, but noticed how sad his eyes were. They were empty, so _blunt_. Sad. He wasn't happy. And he was absolutely right: she was trembling, her heart racing, and she couldn't concentrate very well. Over the past three years, she had forgotten how to fight like she used to.

The Captain stopped a few inches from her. 'If you really wish to hurt me, then do it. I won't stop you.'

This was a test, and a cruel one. Renji widened his eyes, 'Captain Hitsugaya?'

'Shush!' Tōshirō faced Rangiku again. 'I want to know how angry you are with me, and how you're able to ignore what you're feeling.'

In his eyes, she saw a past. Of blood, ghosts and monsters. Of smiles, affection and warmth. Of a chill, a misery, loneliness. Of a little boy, unwanted and unloved, uncertain, his route triggered only by her. His impatience, his irritation, his fury, his small, but clear smiles. Their loyalty, so strong, too strong. Their silent communication, constantly together, she only one step behind. They had walked through wars, through death time and time again, together. As one. They were the Tenth Division, the very essence of the infamous Squad. Admired from afar, and feared by their enemies.

In his eyes, she saw her reflection. Exhausted, broken, confused. Bitter. His gaze was gentle, so unlike himself, soothing her tense muscles, freeing her mind. Matsumoto felt her grip on her zanpakutō loosen. This man would wait forever if he had to, his patience had no limits.

In his eyes, she saw home.  
And she had dearly, _dearly_ missed it.

'You implied I was nothing to you,' Matsumoto said, sheathing the blade. 'If I know you well enough, I'd imagine you want me to feel mutual about you.'

'There isn't any room for emotions, Matsumoto. Anger has hindered my actions, grief has distracted me. I'm experienced with feelings, and I _don't_ want to succumb to them again.'

'You can't run away from them forever, Tōshirō. You're very Human.'

As soon as she said this, she knew she had made a mistake. Hitsugaya stepped so close she could feel his breath at her face. 'Whether or not you remain a Shinigami is none of my concern, nor is it my business. However, you will _always_ refer to me as _Captain Hitsugaya_. As for perceiving me as Human, you obviously don't know me at all. I suggest you watch your mouth from now on. I'm demoting you. Take this as a light punishment.'

Matsumoto didn't object, she was expecting as much, especially after abandoning her post. Yet, the way he said it, so casually, so _unnerved–– _that hurt.

'You will no longer be of the Tenth Division either.' And she stopped breathing. Tōshirō held her gaze, and she wanted him to bite at her again, to hurt her more, to remove her completely from the Gotei. But he wasn't _that_ kind. He would let his Lieutenant endure the humiliation. Turning, he spoke to Renji. 'Abarai, Captain Kuchiki told me about a few vacant seats in your Division. Have Matsumoto.' He looked at her, coldly. 'Be warned, she might not make much of a difference. If anything, she'd merely become a hinderance. I would know.'

Matsumoto completely forgot Renji was observing the scene. Clenching a fist, she didn't look at Renji, she kept watching Hitsugaya, wanting him to see her again, see her anger, see how much he was _killing her_. Yet he knew exactly the amount of damage he had caused. Hitsugaya didn't need to look. Pride stopped him. _Emotions_ stopped him.

When Tōshirō approached the exit, she spoke.

'You know you don't scare me.'

He ignored her, and left the room. Matsumoto wanted to chase after him, stab the blade right through his heart, so he knew exactly how she felt. However, she refrained herself. Renji wasn't sure how to make of the situation. So much had happened, and he couldn't believe Hitsugaya responded the way he did. Renji stepped over to the former Vice-Captain. 'Are you all right?'

'Yes,' she said sharply. But she wasn't. Not in the slightest. How comes everyone she trusted always turned their back on her? 'I hoped as he grew older, he would stop acting like a moody teenager. I guess they were just empty wishes.'

'Personally, I think he just got up on the wrong side of the bed. Or didn't have his favourite tea this morning. He's a sensitive lad about that.'

She smiled, grateful that Renji was trying to cheer her up. But he wouldn't be able to improve her mood so easily. Hitsugaya had chewed at her, ripped at her, and grinned whilst he did so. How much she _hated_ the way he walked out of the room, like a coward, so uncertain in his own decisions.

Rangiku remembered what Nanao told her, about Hitsugaya being as cold as Hyōrinmaru. Upon exiting the room with Abarai, she realised one thing. Hyōrinmaru would have looked at her after demoting her, he would have acknowledged her presence, and maintained his fierce image. Tōshirō, on the other hand, couldn't even meet her gaze. He couldn't handle it. The guilt was too much.

_No, he is nothing like Hyōrinmaru._

* * *

To both Matsumoto and Abarai's relief, Captain Kuchiki wasn't reluctant in transferring Rangiku over to the Sixth Division. The barracks weren't as different as the Tenth Division barracks, but they weren't the same either. 'Eighth Seat, Rangiku Matsumoto. That's going to take a while to get used to,' the female Shinigami said, the least bit impressed to be stuck inside an office again. This time, she didn't share a room with her commanding officer.

Kuchiki wasn't Hitsugaya. Many said they were quite alike, but Rangiku begged to differ. Kuchiki was a lot smoother, less easy to aggravate. Around him, Matsumoto didn't feel a thrill, she felt like she was at work. With Hitsugaya, it wasn't _just_ work. It was much more than that. With him, she felt like she was making a difference. Now, she just felt like a worker. Maybe that was what everybody else felt like, too.

'I'm sorry about what Captain Hitsugaya did,' Rukia said, during break that day. 'My brother shall take good care of you, though. More or less. Don't expect him to be giving you a gold sticker anytime soon though.' She pulled a face. 'I bet you never really expect any prizes after being under _Hitsugaya's_ command.'

'Oh, it wasn't prizes I was after,' Rangiku said, propping herself on one elbow. 'Unfortunately, I don't know which buttons to press with Captain Kuchiki, like I do with Captain Hitsugaya. Ah well. I suppose, in time, I'll figure out what sets his fuse going.'

'So what's it like?' Renji asked, beside Rukia. 'Being back from dead?'

'What kind of question is that?' Rukia queried.

Rangiku shrugged. 'I wasn't expecting anything. Let's just leave it at that.' Although she didn't want to admit it, Matsumoto couldn't forget about this morning, how Hitsugaya spoke to her. _You're dead to me_. There was a horrible demon inside her, desperate to approach him, yell at him, scold him for his disgusting behaviour. How dare he treat her that way? 'Still, I have a lot of training to do. I'm surprised I still have a position here, I'm that awful.'

'Believe me, I've seen worse. _Much_ worse,' Renji reassured her.

'I'm sure I have as well,' Rukia muttered, thoughts trailing back to the most appalling recruits. _Oh dear God_. Their terrible attempts at using a zanpakutō was beyond horrific. Shaking her head to come back to the real world, Rukia looked at Rangiku. 'If you need any help, I'll gladly offer a hand.'

'You? No offence, but you're not the most patient teacher,' Matsumoto cringed.

'I am,' Rukia gaped. '... am I?'

'No,' Renji said.

'I got Kurosaki to where he is now! Surely that means something.'

'He's a natural; he only needed three or four lessons and he was sorted.'

Rukia gave Renji a look. 'A _natural_? Really? Wait until I told him you said that.'

'Thank you, Rukia,' Rangiku said, interrupting the two from their silly debate. 'At the moment, though, I just have to get my confidence back.' She sighed, remembering how sulky Haineko was with her. Tōshirō wasn't helping with her self-esteem either. 'I will find you, though, if I need your help.'

Something about being back made Rangiku feel nauseous. Most had the wisdom to not mention her disappearance. Rangiku even heard she wasn't the first to play dead, some for more than three years. Still, she knew she was recognised as _that one who pretended to be dead_. Matsumoto wondered if Hitsugaya had the same sort of treatment whenever he walked down the halls. _There's that Captain who thought his Lieutenant was dead_. _What an idiot_. If she fled from here, then why did she come back? Nanao. Nanao, she wanted to talk to her.

That wasn't going to be allowed, though. Rangiku stopped short when a Sixth Division member approached, and placed three files into her arms. 'Captain Kuchiki wants these to be sent to the Tenth Division barracks.' Was this a joke? Matsumoto felt suspicious, and she watched the Shinigami walk away, raising a brow.

Did Kuchiki know about her relationship with Hitsugaya? How strained it had become? Without a doubt, he must have gathered some tension between the two, but he wasn't the type to bring them back together. Unless this was Rukia or Renji's doing. Sighing, she made her way towards the Tenth Division, the folders very heavy in her arms. The closer she got to the Barracks, the more she felt she would throw up. Entering Hitsugaya's office, and being sick everywhere would _certainly_ be enough to show how she felt.

When she arrived at the Captain's office, Matsumoto didn't knock. Instead she barged in, and was actually disappointed to find he wasn't there. Placing the folders onto his desk, she was about to leave, when she spotted a faded photograph. Matsumoto picked it up, and saw a little Tōshirō, grinning ear-to-ear, and beside him was an elderly lady, his Grandmother. This picture had been taken quite a long time ago, but she wondered why he had it with him.

Wasn't it his rule to forget about family? To _not_ delve into emotions?

On occasion, Rangiku had met Tōshirō's Grandmother. She was a lovely lady, but very old, and frail. It was remarkable she managed to live for so long by herself. Rangiku hoped nothing had happened to her. Suddenly, she felt cooler, and a chill ran up her spine.

Whipping her head around, she saw Hitsugaya standing in the doorway. He was glaring at her.

'Get out of my office,' he said shortly.

'Is your Grandmother all right?' Rangiku asked, voice soft and full of concern. 'Captain, I––'

'Are you _deaf_, Matsumoto? _Get out_!'

'Is she okay?'

'Leave! _Leave_!'

Never had she witnessed him so angry before, but she had a hunch this anger wasn't directed at her. At once she placed the photograph down and brushed past him, heart pounding against her chest. Now, she was definitely going to be sick. Matsumoto hurried into the ladies' room, found a toilet and threw up. After a few seconds she raised her head, and ran a hand down her face. What had happened? Why was he so tense, so _angry_? So insecure about her being in the same office as him?

What made her Captain act so–– detached? _No one_ would be able to converse with him. Imagining his voice, his eyes, paralysed her. What was wrong with him? Rangiku stood to her feet and flushed the chain. Not only had she played dead, but... but was his Grandmother leaning down the same road? His Grandmother was his world, she brought him up since he was a baby, she was there for him constantly, always, despite how she froze in his presence. Matsumoto recognised that amount of love, that amount of concern and heartbreak.

Yet no matter how she felt, Hitsugaya wouldn't speak to her. Leaving him like that caused so much damage he couldn't handle being in the same room as her. When she attacked him –– how silly that seemed now –– she noticed how she shocked him, how she made the mask slip. _I've hurt him_.

Returning to her own barracks wasn't an option. Matsumoto escaped outdoors, and sat at the steps leading to the entrance of the Gotei. Thoughts swam in her mind, and all of these thoughts involved Hitsugaya. The more time she spent away from him, the more she missed him. The more she wanted to talk and know _why_ he abandoned her on the battlefield. Why... why was he saying she meant nothing to him? Why was he lying? Why was he afraid of her?

'You're upset.'

Matsumoto jumped in surprise and looked up.

'My Master would not be pleased to see you this way.'

Holding herself, Rangiku tried to keep herself warm, but she smiled anyway. 'I don't blame him for being mad. I suppose I would be the same.'

Raising his chin, Hyōrinmaru studied Rangiku, before stepping closer. 'You already have.'

'I'm passed that stage, then. I just wish he'd tell me the truth.'

Hyōrinmaru was the least bit affectionate. In fact, Matsumoto was certain he didn't _register_ affection. But, in these few minutes, he was almost _Human_. The spirit seemed to levitate when he walked over to sit beside the Shinigami. Rangiku didn't look at him. Somehow, Hyōrinmaru just reminded her of Hitsugaya. 'You're best of not knowing the truth.'

'Why?' Rangiku challenged. 'I'd rather know than not know.'

'... My Master did not grant me permission to see you. Yet, he didn't even notice me depart. He needs help.'

'Just try serving him lots of tea,' Rangiku muttered, hugging her knees. 'Might do something.'

'Tea is not a permanent remedy.'

'Well, you're in a pickle, aren't you?'

'My Master rarely voices his thoughts. He is a man of silence, but I can hear him. My Master requires your presence. He misses you every day and I'm sure, in time, he might open up a little.' Hyōrinmaru stood, looked at her, eyes as cold as steel. 'And you aren't dead to him.'

Rangiku didn't meet his gaze. She watched the ground, a few leaves blowing past.

'If you cared about him at all, you'd approach him again.'

'Don't assume I don't care about him,' Rangiku said, sharply.

Hyōrinmaru was still, and she started to shiver. This time, it wasn't because of the temperature. 'I came to you. No one else.' When she looked up, he was gone, vanished, as if their discussion was a dream.

Frustrated, angry and upset, Matsumoto remained sitting. Was it right of her to see him? Did he _deserve_ that? _He left me, though. No seconds thoughts, he just left me without hesitating_. She would not only have hesitated, but gone back for him. Was that harsh, cruel man honestly afraid of death? Whatever happened to that little boy she adored, the one who faced death and smirked, who _loved_ challenges? This man, this _creature_, was not Tōshirō. He was distorted, ruined, and everyone he ever cared about had caused the damage.

_I miss him, though_. How much she wanted to work by his side again, help him. _I want to help him_. Hyōrinmaru came to her, because he trusted her. Because he knew no one else would be able to help Histugaya. No one. Just her. It had always been her.

Bringing both hands through her hair, Matsumoto scrunched her eyes closed. 'I don't want to be the one running back, though.' And she wouldn't be. She would try to aid him, but nothing more. She wouldn't be affectionate, wouldn't shower him with compliments. She was nothing, so she might as well act like _nothing_ to him. Just an aid. Blunt.

_Unlike herself_.  
She remembered Hyōrinmaru's words: _... And you aren't dead to him._

When it started to rain, Matsumoto headed back inside.

* * *

**author's note**: Don't worry, Hitsugaya's moods shall be explained very soon. I have deliberately not written these few chapters from his POV for that reason. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed. Also a huge thank you to **[ Guest ]**, **TripleBerryBlast**, **sagitgirlth** and **Kenseikan** for reviewing the prior chapter.


	4. Amends

Snowfall  
**Chapter 4.**

* * *

Ever since she returned, laid her pale blue eyes on him, Hitsugaya had been restless. In many regards, he wasn't entirely sure how to respond. Yes, Matsumoto came back. She was willing to fight by his side again. Or was she? Everything was so confusing. Surely, continuing to hide, to play dead, to live a life of one's own... surely she'd rather _that_, then come back to Soul Society? There was a lot she could do, but she returned. Why? To spite him? It honestly felt that way. How dare she make him believe that she was dead for three years? Did she have any idea how that made him _feel_?

That was a concern for him. The fact she could make him _feel_. Whenever he shared the same room as her, he couldn't concentrate. He could barely make sense of his emotions, only responding with coldness. Tōshirō was disappointed in her. As his Vice-Captain, he thought she might understand _why_ he didn't search for her on the battlefield. Why he refused to find her. Plenty of times, Hitsugaya had faced death, welcomed it even. Yet, when others embraced their dreaded fate, Tōshirō turned his gaze.

Under no circumstances did he wish to see Matsumoto's corpse. Was that cowardice? As a soldier, he _had_ to check if his comrades were still alive. They were valuable to him. To form an army, and maintain one, he needed to be observant. What sort of leader hated to see his soldiers die? Only a pathetic boy like him. Yet, he didn't regret it. He couldn't. He didn't regret not searching for Rangiku. Tōshirō was much too proud.

Instantly, his mind was distracted again by his Grandmother. Unfortunately, she was not playing dead. Not only had he discovered she was terribly unwell, but also missing. Neighbours had reported the incident to him via letter, and he didn't know what to do, how to feel, how to respond. Anger. Anger was _certainly_ an emotion he felt. A bitter, disgusting hatred. She didn't run away, or get herself lost. Someone had taken her. Could they possibly know that she was valuable to him? That her death would tear him apart? It was not uncommon that Tōshirō was detested by many in Soul Society, for a variety of reasons. Those out to get him would not stop at any cost to make sure he suffered.

Wisely they targeted the one woman he trusted the most. Hitsugaya couldn't sit around. The only thing he wanted to do was head back to Rukongai, find his Grandmother, and bring her back to safety. Make her well again. She had lived for hundreds of years, but he refused to believe it was her time to go. There was a problem: he couldn't just _leave_ the Gotei. He would have to give in a letter of absence two weeks prior he left, plus he didn't want to go alone. This had nothing to do with Tōshirō not having the confidence to head into Soul Society. He just _knew_ he needed someone to be there to _control_ him. Kurosaki would be good at that, but Hitsugaya wasn't sure on contacting him.

Somehow, he had to convince the Gotei to let him leave early. Tōshirō abandoned his desk and decided he might as well deliver his message of absence now. His pace was quick while he hurried down the hallways, uncertain if his decision was right. The man stopped, inhaling, then diverted his path towards the Fifth Division. Arriving at the barracks, he immediately searched for Momo Hinamori. If there was anyone he could talk to about his Grandmother, it had to be her. They both grew up with the elderly lady, after all. Tōshirō found her working in the office.

For a while, these two hadn't conversed, which was mostly Hitsugaya's fault. Standing to her feet, Momo widened her eyes. 'Tōshirō? What are you doing here?'

Usually he would scold her for not referring to him as "Captain". But he honestly didn't care right now. 'Did you hear about Granny? She's very ill, and has been missing for the past few days.'

'What?' Hinamori couldn't believe it. 'Wh–– Are you going to Rukongai to find her?'

'Yes,' Hitsugaya said. 'I just felt you needed to know––'

'Let me come with you.'

It was clear how eager Momo was. Hitsugaya shook his head. 'No, I'd rather you remained here.' Maybe it would be good to bring her along, but something stopped him. Hinamori was capable of looking after herself, despite what Aizen did to her all those years ago. Yet, in the back of his head, he still doubted her slightly. He didn't trust her like he used to. 'I'll contact you as soon as I find her.'

'Tōshirō, don't you _dare_ leave me hanging like this! If anything has happened––'

'I promise,' he said sternly. 'I know you care about her, but surely you know that I wouldn't fail?'

Momo clearly wanted to act stubbornly, to insist. However, he was her superior officer at the end of the day. Clenching a fist, she reluctantly nodded. 'You just get her back home, Tōshirō.' Then she brought him into a soft embrace. 'And for crying out loud, bring someone with you if you won't let me come.' She pulled back. 'What about Rangiku?'

That was a bad suggestion. Hitsugaya shook his head again. 'She is no longer under my command.'

'I gather you're upset with her...?'

'I'm not upset, Hinamori.' Tōshirō stepped back, narrowing his brows. 'That woman abandoned me at her post when she shouldn't have. I can't trust her anymore. It's not sadness I feel; it's disappointment. She's the last person I'd bring along.'

Momo sighed impatiently. 'Fine. I suppose there's nothing I can say to convince you, but you'd be amazed at how well discussion brings two people back together.' She raised her brows. 'Don't you remember us? We were distant for so long, and when we finally conversed, it got better. Maybe you just need to talk to her.'

'Why?'

'Because maybe you don't understand her view on things, and she doesn't with you either.'

There was logic in her reasoning, however Tōshirō refused to admit fault. 'No. Hinamori, I need you to come with me while I report my leave of absence. Hopefully you being there shall help. I know abandoning my duty is bad, but I don't have a choice.'

Deciding to leave the Matsumoto issue be, Hinamori nodded. 'Of course I will. And, no, you don't.' Together, the two friends headed out of the Fifth Division barracks to deliver the report. On their way there, Tōshirō decided that, whether or not he received permission, he was going anyway. Alone, or having someone beside him.

* * *

Despite how exhausted she felt, Matsumoto wasn't going to stop training anytime soon. The zanpakutō felt heavy in her hand. After performing Shikai for god-knows-how-many times that day, Rangiku watched in irritation as a mere spray of ash escaped the tip. No matter how calm she tried to be, no matter how she tried to fool herself she was confident, Haineko wasn't having any of it. Moaning, she slumped over to the wall opposite and slid down, pondering over others way to get her zanpakutō to cooperate.

This sucked. Really. Hitsugaya refused to acknowledge her presence, she had been transferred to another division, _demoted_ and her zanpakutō skills had worsened. Maybe she deserved all of this after leaving Tōshirō, but if only he heard her side of things. Understood her reasons. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she knew he wouldn't listen. Hyōrinmaru wanted her to help him, but she _couldn't_. It wasn't as if she wasn't _trying_ to either.

Matsumoto raised her head when the door opened, and sighed in relief when she saw it was Ukitake. It was nice to see a gentle face for once. 'Ah, here you are!' He said. 'I'm delighted to see you well. And _alive_, too.' Closing the door behind him, he stepped over and she stood to her feet. 'Training?'

'Attempting. I'd really do for some whiskey, though.'

'Unfortunately I'm fresh out. Do you need a hand?'

She sighed, and smiled. 'I'd really like that, Ukitake. Nice to know some Captains give a crap about their Lieutenants–– Oh wait, I'm not one anymore.' Rangiku refrained herself from pulling a face at the memory of Hitsugaya. 'Still, being Eighth Seat is equally as thrilling, I mean, I can barely keep still,' she said, tone heavy with sarcasm.

Ukitake chuckled, amused. 'Hopefully Captain Hitsugaya shall come to. I am, well, _sorry_ that he reacted the way he did. I'm sure the last thing he wanted to do was demote you.' She frowned. '... _Maybe_. Anyway, why not tell me the problem, Matsumoto? I'm sure I can help in some way.'

'It's nothing really. Just lost confidence. Plus Haineko is being a lazy bitch.' She didn't even care about her language anymore, or that Haineko could hear her. _Let her hear. _'Unless you have any ways to spank your zanpakutō spirit, I don't know what can be done.'

'I know someone else who lost confidence. It took him quite some time to get back to how he was. His zanpakutō had had enough, as well. With insistence, but also through listening, you can probably fix your bond with her.'

Bond? Matsumoto cocked a brow. Her "bond" with Haineko was quite complex. 'As far as I'm concerned, I'm useless if I'm not back to how I was.' Tōshirō had made that clear.

Ukitake seemed to know what she was referring to. 'In time, Hitsugaya shall start to trust you again.'

'_Again_?' Rangiku scoffed. 'He's not one to doubt _my_ trust! I wasn't the one who left him on the battlefield. He just _left_ me, without even a second thought. How hypocritical of him to doubt me, when he started all of this.' Then she sighed heavily. 'I'm sorry, Ukitake. I–– I'm just dying for a drink, you know?' That would help her mood.

Thankfully Jūshirō was relatively calm about this, but it was sad to see Matsumoto so frustrated. Her constant training reminded him of Tōshirō when Hyōrinmaru was taken from him. Fiercely determined. Not waiting for the storm to pass, but to walk right into it. That was admirable, and Matsumoto was equally as determined. Maybe not so much as to catch her Captain's eye, but to just gain confidence.

'I was there, when he decided to not search for you,' he said carefully. 'I was very keen to find you myself, Matsumoto.'

'Thank you. If only he was like you.'

Ukitake smiled crookedly. 'My bond with you isn't as strong as his and yours. I was watching him closely and, at first, I was rather appalled that he deserted you without a thought. Later, I realised, he could sense your spiritual pressure. He could no longer feel you, your reiatsu vanished. I still don't know why he didn't want to find your body, but he was very convinced you were gone.'

The zanpakutō slipped slightly from her grip. Rangiku softened her expression. 'Why didn't he find me, though?'

'I don't know, Rangiku. That's what confuses me. I guess only _he_ can answer your question.'

'Pft, I doubt he would,' she muttered. 'You could try and tempt him with sweets, but.'

Jūshirō rubbed the back of his head. 'I _could_, but he'd probably feel even more put off.'

'Urgh, he's so _difficult_. Nothing pleases him. You could shower him with parties, naked girls, cake and booze, and he still wouldn't even _twitch_.' Yet, she still found herself smiling. Tōshirō had always been this way, unamused, blunt, detached. Many hated this about him, found it hard to communicate with him, but she managed to form a bond with him easily. She was one of few who got through to him. However, that special relationship was deteriorating into something ugly.

It was now she realised how _much_ she wanted to fix things with him. _I shouldn't have left him like that_.

'He's not like anyone else I've seen,' Ukitake agreed. 'He likes you, though. If anything, I can tell you that without a doubt.'

Rangiku wanted to believe him, but she would only have faith in his words if Tōshirō told her. If he approached her, held her close and said he still trusted her, still liked her, still wanted her to be his friend. Matsumoto groaned impatiently. 'Can we stop talking about that jerkface? I want some whiskey inside me already!' Then she began to drag the reluctant Captain out of the room. 'Maybe Shunsui has some to spare.'

Fortunately for Rangiku, Shunsui had alcohol. Unfortunately for Ukitake, however, Shunsui had alcohol. It only took two hours until poor Jūshirō could barely keep his head up, both Matsumoto and Shunsui fussing over his weak liver. For the moment, Nanao was nowhere to be seen, which was just as well. She would be the least bit impressed to witness Rangiku, her Captain and Ukitake trying to down a pint of booze each. Shunsui was terribly calm and at peace while Matsumoto started ranting about how Tōshirō "completely ditched" her.

Slamming her empty bottle of alcohol down, Rangiku turned to him. '––and then he had the _audacity_ to remove me from the Division. Who does that? If he so wanted me to work for him then it seems logical that he'd, y'know, keep me as his Vice-Captain. Oh my _God_, I've done so much for him and he just dumped me on the spot. I'm way too familiar with this...' She tried to sip at her drink, then realised there was nothing left. 'This day has _sucked_.'

'You probably hurt his feelings,' Shunsui said, passing her another bottle. 'That little boy is quite sensitive~'

'He's not a little boy anymore,' Ukitake managed to say, before dozing again.

'Oh, yes, of course, he's a tall boy now. They grow so fast.' Dreamily, he propped himself on one elbow. 'Don't they?'

Rangiku rolled her eyes. 'I'm not talking about his damn _height_, Shunsui,' she moaned. 'I'm talking about his behaviour. Why don't you listen to me?!'

'I'm sorry, what?'

'You're the worst friend ever!'

'Rangiku, do you remember why I kept having those headaches?' Uncertain why this was relevant, she nodded. 'Well, when you vanished for your short holiday, those headaches stopped. Now you're back these headaches have returned––' He stopped mid-sentence when Rangiku sprayed alcohol at his face. 'What I mean to say is, I actually started to miss these headaches.'

Slightly guilty to have attacked him so quickly, Rangiku grabbed a towel nearby and began to wipe Shunsui's face. 'Oh, I'm so sorry! And _really_? Aw, thank you.' Lowering her hand, she sighed. 'I'm sorry I left like that. I was thinking all about myself, and forgot everyone. I'm so selfish,' she muttered. Shunsui said nothing, probably because he agreed. 'I just wish he wasn't so angry at me.'

'This _is_ Tōshirō we're talking about,' Shunsui said, hiccuping.

'Tōshirō-shmisero,' she pouted. 'He doesn't care about me.'

Ukitake raised his head, probably in an attempt to leave, but failed awfully. Unnerved at his best friend's struggles, Shunsui raised his brows and thought for a long while. 'You love him, don't you?'

Rangiku was unfortunately drinking at the time he asked this, and ended up choking aggressively. Shunsui leaned over and patted her back, and she quickly regained her breath. Voice slightly croaked, she said, 'Sorry?'

Shrugging, the Captain gazed into his bottle of alcohol, swirling the liquid. 'There's nothing to blush about.'

'Bl––? I'm not blushing.'

'You seem particularly upset about the way Hitsugaya treated you. I concluded that you might be in love with him.'

Now, she was _definitely_ blushing. Narrowing her brows, Rangiku felt herself sober up. 'No, I'm not in love with him,' she said slowly. For a moment, she did have to think about it. After all, why was she so obsessed over his behaviour with her? Why was it _him_ and only him, that made her want to leave her life behind? Hitsugaya's "abandonment" had such a huge effect on her. Anyone else, she would force herself through the pain and deal with it. Tōshirō? No. Almost as if she couldn't _handle_ him not wanting her by his side anymore. In many ways, that was all she lived for. Him, to protect him.

Love was an emotion she had wanted to avoid for a long time. It was too much to handle. Love always resulted in awful consequences. She had had partners before, long and short-term, but she only ever loved one man who probably didn't feel mutual. Gin Ichimaru was a past she should not return to, though. _Hitsugaya would only be more disappointed_.

Yet, there was also something else. Something far more foreign, another abandonment, by a man. She stopped drinking, suddenly remembering him slightly, how tall he was, face shadowed, that he always smelt of–– _gunpowder_?

Shunsui sipped at his drink. 'Whatever you say, Rangiku. Now, where is my Lieutenant? She was meant to come round to deliver some reports.'

* * *

Relieved, Tōshirō returned to his office, content in knowing he was allowed to leave early. The maximum amount of days was twelve, but that was more than enough. He would get his Grandmother back, and make her well again, before heading back to Soul Society. It was a shame he couldn't be there for her as much. She had sacrificed her life to make sure he grew up okay, and he merely walked onwards without her. Maybe that was what she wanted, but he felt guilty to think about it.

On his way back to the office, he knew Momo was reluctant to let him leave without her. Of course she wanted to venture into Rukongai with him, find out what had happened to their Grandmother, but maybe it was right that only he went. He knew her the best, their bond was much stronger. Tōshirō wanted to go through this alone. At least, that was what he wanted to believe. Filing away his last few reports, Hitsugaya left for home.

It was late in the evening, and most Shinigami had gone. Tōshirō was about to follow suit when he heard calls from a nearby training room. Calls which he recognised. His mind urged him to not acknowledge the voice, but he ignored his thoughts for once. Tōshirō entered the room, causing Matsumoto to jump in surprise. 'Captain! I thought everyone was gone.'

'Not everyone,' he said, raising his chin. 'I usually leave at this hour.'

'Gosh,' she said quietly. 'Uh–– I am training right now.'

'I know.' He closed the door and folded his arms. 'I'll just observe. You go ahead.'

Her confidence was already bad! Now Hitsugaya was in the same room, it was even worse. The alcohol she downed earlier today was helping her nerves, but not so much her concentration. When performing Shikai or Bankai, it wasn't just about flicking the zanpakutō and making the correct call. There was so much more to it: emotion was key, but loyalty, strength and an inner power. One she could only retrieve herself. Haineko, like any other spirit, would only respond to the wielder who reflected their own abilities. Rangiku was failing in that department.

It was hard to ignore his steely gaze. Tōshirō was a statue at the other end of the room, watching her closely, as if she were his prey. Matsumoto swerved her attention back to her zanpakutō, and just _begged_ Haineko to cooperate. Tōshirō was here, watching, most probably _judging_ too. If she performed awfully, he would only be further put off from promoting her back as Vice-Captain of the Tenth Division. He knew how much the Division meant to her, but that didn't encourage him.

_Why did I end up with this asshole?_

As always, she repeated her movements, 'Growl, Haineko.'

Something unexpected happened. Unlike the countless times she had tried, this time it worked, but much more powerfully than she intended. Ash darted at the wall opposite, knocking some of the brick down, and swerved, stabbing Tōshirō. Fortunately, the Captain was prepared, defending himself with Hyōrinmaru smoothly. Lowering his blade, he frowned at Matsumoto.

Appalled at what had happened, Rangiku instantly sheathed her zanpakutō. 'Captain, I'm so sorry––'

'No, that was very good, Matsumoto.'

She raised a brow, shocked. 'It was...?'

Tōshirō proceeded for her, and she remained still, watching him. The man was tall, very tall, and no longer skinny. He was frightening, intimidating, the very commander he wanted to be. Everything about him was so dark. Although his skin was light, hair as bright as snow, although his eyes were a wonderful, bright green, he was _dark_. Shadows hung below his eyes, and his look, the way he looked at her, was not evil, but close to it. She imagined very few had the courage to catch his gaze. He was a scary man. Scars healed over his cheeks, one very new, twisting the corner of his mouth slightly. Cursed by the past.

And yet, despite his imperfections, she thought he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Rangiku ignored the tingling sensation when Tōshirō held her wrist, studied her limp hand. 'Why are you trembling so much?' He asked, looking at her. 'When did this begin?'

'Why do you suddenly care?' Rangiku retorted, retreating her hand.

He frowned. 'It is my duty––'

'Don't give me the whole "it's my duty" bullshit, Captain! Earlier today, you refused to have me in the same room as you. Now, you're trying to help me?'

'My Granny's gone missing.'

Then everything shattered around her. Rangiku widened her eyes. 'Oh God... Captain, what happened?' She claimed his hand tightly. Felt a cold chill zap at her. 'When did you hear about this?'

He wasn't sure how it happened. In a way, he knew he could only tell her how he felt. Only she would understand completely. 'Yesterday. I don't know what happened, Matsumoto, but I intend to find out.' He slipped his hand out from hers, the burning pulse in his palm weakening. 'She is also unwell.' He looked away. 'I don't know if she's alive or not.'

'Don't say that! You must try and find her. Does she usually go missing?'

'No,' he caught her gaze. 'No, she doesn't. Never, actually. When I head into Rukongai, I'll hopefully find out what happened by the neighbours I used to live near.' Inhaling, he nodded towards her sheathed zanpakutō. 'Have you improved since this morning?'

At first she didn't know what he was talking about, then it clicked. 'Oh! Yes, to a degree, Captain.' _Why are you changing the subject?_ So typical of him. 'With more practise, I'm sure I'll be back to how I was.'

'Mm.' He walked behind her, then placed two hands at her shoulders and straightened her posture. 'Body language is key to know how much confidence the opponent has. Many slouch, if you haven't noticed. Don't slouch. Even if you feel worried or nervous, don't ever slouch. You want your opponent to feel intimidated. That only disadvantages them.'

Rangiku heard him, but she was still confused about his sudden change in character. Had his Grandmother's disappearance brought him to her? Could he not manage it anymore? 'Did you tell Momo?'

'Yes.' She could feel his breath at her neck, tickling her. 'Faced away from me, I want you to try and defend yourself. Use your ears, but also your other senses. Try and register what I'm doing without looking at me.'

'Is she coming with you?'

_Clang_!

Hitsugaya's zanpakutō was very heavy, but she was strong. After spinning around on her heel, she brought her zanpakutō up to meet his. Her movement was as speedy as ever. 'No.' He lowered the blade. 'I'd rather go alone.'

'Well, I'm coming with you.'

'Matsumoto––'

'You can't tell me otherwise. I know your Grandmother means a lot to you. I like her very much, she's always been kind to me. I want to help you find her. Hopefully, she won't have gone far, Captain.'

Tōshirō lowered his gaze. 'Hopefully. Fine.' He looked at her. 'You must promise to not get in my way, though.' He patted her zanpakutō with his. 'And not just physically. I have my suspicions, and I doubt I'll win her back without a fight.' Tōshirō sheathed his zanpakutō. 'But I won't be leaving without a fight anyway.'

When he swivelled around on his heel to leave, Matsumoto grabbed his wrist. She remembered her discussion with Ukitake, the question she wanted to ask. 'Captain, please answer: why did you leave me three years ago? Why didn't you come back to search for me, even if I was dead?'

Tōshirō would rather avoid her question. He looked down at her hand holding his, realised how much he missed her touch, her affection, her constant hugs. Her smiles and laughs. It had been too long since he saw those. 'Because I wanted to remember you like this: alive.' He paused. 'Death doesn't suit you, Matsumoto.'

In those few seconds, he looked so human. He couldn't stand the thought of seeing her dead, so he ran away. His cowardice was wonderful to her. _This man is nothing like Hy_ō_rinmaru, even if he wishes he is_. Releasing his wrist, she nodded. 'It doesn't, does it? That's why I don't wear it.'

He rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue. 'We can discuss what happened another time. For now, my thoughts are on other matters.'

'I understand,' she smiled warmly. 'I'm just glad you're talking to me again. Must have got a little lonely for you,' she teased, prodding his chest. Hitsugaya didn't smile back. 'Too soon?'

Sighing, he approached the exit. 'Make sure you're ready to leave tomorrow, Matsumoto. I don't intend to hang around. Meet me outside my office.'

'Yes, Captain.'

Jokes aside, she was happy he was conversing with her, even if he was very blunt and dismissive. When he left, she started to worry over his Grandmother. The fact he blurted out her disappearance like that only showed how much the elderly lady mattered to him. Rangiku hoped she was all right.

* * *

**author's note**: To the **[ Guest ]** who reviewed on the 24th July, please visit my profile to see the link I've given you. I have responded to your review on Tumblr.  
Thank you **Kenseikan**, **[ snarkyvigilante ]** and **sagitgirlth** for reviewing also. Your feedback is absolutely wonderful. Until next time!


	5. Lake

Snowfall  
**Chapter 5.**

* * *

'I don't think I like this, Rangiku.'

Frowning, Matsumoto didn't see _how_ Nanao hated the dress she had bought her. Then again, this _was_ Nanao. Too timid for her own good. Clicking her tongue, she sighed and stood up, circling her. 'Why? You look wonderful, plus it makes your boobs look bigger––'

'Enlarging my breast size is the least of my concerns!' Ise retorted, cheeks blushing heavily. 'Rangiku, I appreciate you buying me this, but I will have to decline.' In Nanao's eyes, she had a point. After all, she wouldn't be seen _dead_ wearing a dress that ended just after the tops of her thighs. _Too much flesh revealed_. 'I'm content with what I have!'

Rangiku couldn't believe this. 'But that dress looks so good on you!'

'I beg to differ.' Huffing, Nanao strutted into her bedroom to remove the dress. Matsumoto didn't stop her, but she was the least bit impressed. Sure, it was probably a bit revealing. She looked really nice in it though. Oh well.

Collapsing onto the settee, Rangiku leaned over and grabbed her glass of wine. For the past two hours, she had been burying Nanao in the clothes she bought her, and only a few were acceptable. Maybe that wasn't much of a surprise. They tended to have different tastes. Soon, Nanao appeared, wearing her usual Shinigami robes, a blush still evident across her cheeks.

Rangiku smiled crookedly. 'Your Captain would _love_ to have seen you in that.'

'What?'

'Hm?' Matsumoto raised her brows, and sipped at her drink.

Nanao knew _exactly_ what she said. Squinting her eyes at Rangiku, she grabbed her tea mug and sat beside her. 'Speaking of Captains, I heard Captain Hitsugaya transferred you.' She looked at her, softening her expression. 'I guess you didn't take that well.'

'Pfft, I'm a big girl. I can handle it.' Rangiku still felt bitter about what happened between them, however things seemed to be taking a turn. _Hopefully for the better_. 'Don't worry, though. He actually invited me to pop into Rukongai with him tomorrow.'

'Rukongai?' Nanao frowned. 'He came from the West, didn't he? The first district.'

Nodding, Matsumoto straightened herself. 'We're going there. Apparently his Grandmother has gone missing, and he wishes to find her.' It was odd, knowing that such a cold man was so worried about his Granny. There was something touching about that, or relieving. That Tōshirō still cared. She just hoped his Grandmother was okay, that they would find her, and everything would be fine.

'Really?' Placing her mug down, Nanao began to worry. 'I don't know the Captain that well, but I know he and his Grandmother were close. Rukongai's districts can be quite––' She couldn't think of the appropriate word. 'Just be careful out there; I don't want you dying again.'

'I'll be fine, I promise.' And she knew it wasn't really Rangiku Ise was concerned about. They both knew. Hitsugaya might be strong, but that only made him vulnerable. A man's greatest strength, was also his greatest weakness. 'You know, I bet we'll be back before you know it. Rukongai might have some pests here and there, but they're no match against us Shinigami.'

'I'm sure you can knock them out.'

Rangiku cocked a brow. Then grinned. 'Was that envy I heard in your tone there? Hey, at least I _can_ knock them out with these jugs,' and just to make her point clear, she lifted her breasts slightly, causing Nanao to groan and look away. 'Haha! It's okay, Nanao. Not everyone is so fortunate.'

Blushing heavily, Ise had to move. She could still remember the time they went to the beach together, how Matsumoto discovered she had stuffed her bra. _That_ was humiliating, especially when Rangiku made such a huge fuss over it. Still, she had been happy then, as had Tōshirō. They were so trapped in their issues. But back then, they were free from the world and what plagues it brought. In many ways, Nanao missed those times, when Rangiku's sense of humour was even more twisted than it was today.

Then she remembered her Captain informing her of Rangiku's death, how sorry he looked and upset, because Shunsui knew it would destroy her. Did Matsumoto have any idea? Nanao had always wondered why Rangiku drank so much, and, lately, she kind of knew why. Those who didn't appreciate themselves, didn't love themselves, tended to not_ care_ about themselves. Hitsugaya threw himself around, tortured his body just so he could be the best. And Matsumoto, she preferred to waste nights drinking with friends than to just stop and think. Because thinking was too much to bare. She didn't _want_ to think. When she faked her death, she didn't think. She just _did_, and maybe that was a wise decision. To not hesitate.

'I'm amazed Captain Hitsugaya warmed up to you so quickly.'

Rangiku's smile fell, and she narrowed her brows. 'I wouldn't say that. Really, I insisted I come along with him. He did approach me tonight, which was good of him–– jerk. Warmed up to me, though?' She shook her head. 'I know he's still mad at me, still hates me for what I did.'

'He can't _hate_ you,' Nanao replied. 'You most likely angered him, but that doesn't mean he hates you.' Then she dropped her gaze. 'Not that I would know or anything.' Uncertain, Nanao readjusted her glasses. 'So you head out tomorrow?'

'Yeah.' Rangiku appreciated Ise's kind words, even if she lacked confidence in them. 'That means I gotta pack! Oh, and I forgot to mention, I'm staying at your place overnight.'

'Obviously.'

Jumping to her feet, she grabbed Nanao's hands. 'You can come help me pack. By the way, I might need to borrow some underwear. I'm pretty low on them––'

'Are you serious?!'

Neither were in bed until three hours later, half of Nanao's underwear taken by Rangiku. Clearly Matsumoto didn't care _that much_ for hygiene, but Ise was ridiculously clean and tidy. So, really, there wasn't a great deal to frown at. Packed, the two collapsed and fell asleep, waking up four hours later. Thankfully, Nanao was an insistent friend who managed to drag Rangiku out of bed so she would meet her former Captain on time.

'Thankfully, I have enough bras. We'd be in a bit of trouble if I didn't, wouldn't we?'

'I swear to God, Rangiku...'

Both friends reached the Gotei, and searched for Tōshirō. Rangiku spotted him waiting outside his office, like he said he would. Of course, her Captain hadn't actually packed a great deal, but she had disciplined herself too. Tōshirō cocked his head, eyeing Nanao, and they both exchanged pleasantries. Rangiku turned to her friend, and hugged her tightly. 'Take good care of yourself now. I know you can make a right mess in our apartment.'

'_Our_ apartment?' Nanao's left eye twitched. 'And _you_ make the mess!'

Rangiku wasn't serious, but Nanao's responses were so funny. 'I'll see you soon, yes?'

'Yes.' Nanao looked at Tōshirō once, and the Captain registered a little concern in her eyes, which he understood. Once the Lieutenant was gone, he swerved his attention to Matsumoto, and the cheeriness from her expression had faded slightly, as if she had restricted her behaviour just for him.

It couldn't be that she was afraid. 'This is something I want finished quickly, Matsumoto. Any delays from you, then you'll be dismissed. No excuses.'

'Of course, Captain.' And she believed him. Tōshirō was always serious, but this matter meant a lot to him. He couldn't jeopardise his Grandmother's life because of Rangiku, but no way would Rangiku let him down. Whatever mattered to Tōshirō mattered to her as well. 'I trust you're going to meet someone?'

'Yes. The neighbours I lived near are going to talk to me.' His voice was sharp, and he brushed past her. Rangiku followed. 'They will tell me everything,' he added, voice low. She looked at him, then averted her gaze. It was discomforting to watch Tōshirō like this. There wasn't any anger. No impatience. Nothing. How much she loathed it when he bottled everything in.

Their journey didn't take too long. Having to follow Hitsugaya, Rangiku needed to be speedy. He wasn't wasting any time resting and she wasn't going to complain. The majority of their travels were in silence, and all the while, she knew he wasn't thinking about anything except his Grandmother's wellbeing. He, for the moment, didn't care what Rangiku had done. Yes, she had hurt him –– and she wasn't proud. However, he was a smart man, who knew his priorities. Rangiku was not a priority right now.

Shunpo'ing from one place to the next, it gradually grew exhausting. Evening started to settle, and when Hitsugaya informed her they weren't too far away, she was relieved. But her relief was directed at him. She was relieved they were closer to knowing the truth, knowing about his Grandmother.

'Captain,' she said, when the sun was settling over the hills. 'You don't expect––'

'I expect nothing, Matsumoto.'

Rangiku hesitated. Then, 'I just want you to know that, whatever happens, I'll be here for you.'

Watching him, she knew he understood, but his pride was a barrier, stopping him from smiling and thanking her. This wasn't a problem. By now, she was used to her Captain's mannerisms. But she wanted to see his face, she wanted him to see _her_ face, to know that she truly cared, that she would be there. She might have turned her back on him, but she wouldn't again. _That she's sorry_. Whatever he needed, she would provide it, he just needed to say.

After her statement, Tōshirō quickened his pace. 'I know.' That was all. Rangiku sighed, and said nothing more. Clearly, Hitsugaya didn't want to talk, giving her the silent treatment. _That's all right_, she told herself_. I deserve it_. They walked for a little more, until they entered a village they both knew very well. 'We're here,' he said.

The first district was not the grandest, and Rangiku had bumped into a few rough individuals here in the past. Her Captain being one of them. Rangiku was silent, following her Captain. They passed houses and huts, and she realised some people were staring at them. Rangiku and Hitsugaya's attire was well known, and it wasn't a surprise that people recognised Hitsugaya's appearance as well. He used to live here, and was always avoided. Now, he still was, if not more so. Even adults hid in their homes, watching from behind windows.

Rangiku felt her mood drop. Tōshirō had such a harsh time as a child. People hated him and he didn't know why. All he had was dear Momo and his Granny. No wonder he was so desperate to get her back. No wonder he couldn't stand the thought of Momo stepping into danger with him. _He cares so much_. Those idiots who said Hitsugaya was cold and unloving annoyed her. They didn't know Hitsugaya; he was wrapped in so many layers, wrapped in ice, and beneath, there was a glowing, warm heart. A heart she might have had the opportunity to embrace if she didn't leave him.

They reached a hut, standing alone. Passing a sorry attempt for a garden, Hitsugaya knocked on the door, and soon received an answer. A little girl, with blonde hair, looked up at them in awe. 'Uhh...'

'We're here to see Takeshi,' Hitsugaya said shortly, blunt.

Soon, the man he required appeared at the doorway. He had quite a hard face, but if softened at once when he saw Hitsugaya. 'Tōshirō? What happened to you? You've _grown_ phenomenally. I didn't think it would happen!'

'My Grandmother. Where is she?'

Rangiku looked at Takeshi, watched him swallow, suddenly afraid of the little boy he once knew. 'You'd better come inside. You two must be starving. Uh, sorry for my manners,' he turned to Matsumoto, 'I'm Takeshi, used to be neighbours with your Captain.'

She shook his hand. 'Rangiku, his Lie–– companion.' She ignored Hitsugaya's look.

'Come in. My wife has finished cooking a meal, and I'm sure there's enough for both of you.'

Tōshirō was not hungry, but Matsumoto encouraged him inside. The hut was small and snug, occupying only three people: Takeshi, his wife and the girl. Of course they were not originally family. It was very rare, or even unheard of, for relatives to find each other in Soul Society. A fire had been lit in the corner, and two beds were at one of end of the hut, next to a chest of drawers. There was very little inside.

Gosh, how this place brought back memories for Hitsugaya. Where he used to live, there wasn't much either. Unbeknownst to him, Rangiku didn't have the luxury of a home when she was a child. Not until Gin welcomed her into his arms. Takeshi's wife, Aiko, was very doting, serving the two starving Shinigami with what looked like porridge.

'I never thought you'd return, Tōshirō,' Aiko said, 'We're very happy you have.'

Rangiku studied her Captain's expressions, and honestly wasn't so sure herself if Aiko was telling the truth. She was aware that everyone excluded him, everyone hated to be around him. Looking up from his untouched porridge, Tōshirō spoke to her. 'You have been keeping a good watch on my Grandmother, I trust.'

'Oh yes,' Aiko replied. 'We usually invited her for dinner, didn't we?' She said, looking at her husband for support.

'She enjoyed our meals, our noodles. Happy with any meal we served her.'

Tōshirō didn't smile. 'I know my Grandmother was tolerant with food. What bothers me is that you claim to have taken care of her, and yet she is now missing.' Rangiku felt the temperature in the room decrease, and she felt a little sympathetic for the couple.

'Captain Hitsugaya and I would really appreciate it if you told us what you know. Of course we're extremely grateful for the food you have offered us,' she said, hoping Aiko and Takeshi wouldn't feel threatened. It seemed they were soothed when Rangiku started talking.

'We understand,' Takeshi said, eyeing his "daughter" for a second, who was much too distracted in her games to listen. 'The thing is, Rangiku, I wish I could help. These bandits, they stop at nothing. Tōshirō, you have become very well-known in these parts, and I don't know much, but does anyone have a grudge on you?'

'Or, maybe, do you know any reason why someone would take your Granny?' Aiko queried.

Tōshirō dropped his gaze. 'No.' _Lie_, Rangiku realised. 'I do not. My duty is to protect, not create a row. You said "bandits", Takeshi. Go on.'

'I don't know what else to call them. You and Momo tended to have issues with this group; they're awfully aggressive. Thieving, hurting people––'

'Yes,' Hitsugaya said shortly. 'I remember.' He looked at Rangiku once, and she saw a horrid darkness in his eyes. Then he swerved his gaze to Takeshi. 'You're certain it was them?'

'I can't prove that. I wasn't there. A witness saw it happen, but people are so useless around here, no one did anything. Your poor Grandmother wouldn't have stood a chance.'

Now, everything around him transformed, and Rangiku felt her heart pace quicken. There was a horrible anger in his eyes, a terrible monster desperate to break out. She started to tremble, aware that his spiritual pressure was affecting her the most, that only she was struggling to not shiver. Tōshirō was controlling himself, but using her as a crutch, directing his chill towards her, because only she could handle it. She saw a dragon, a frightening dragon, untamed, growling, filled with revenge. An anger she had never witnessed before in her life.

Her fears were coming true. They caught each other's gaze, and she knew he was aware, but both knew he didn't have a choice anyway. Rangiku wanted him to find his Granny, but, in a way, she just wanted to get out of here. To just forget about it and move on. That was selfish, though. Hitsugaya _needed_ his Grandmother to be okay. Their bond was strong.

'Thing is, Tōshirō, I––' Takeshi sighed. 'I'm sorry, but I don't know if your Granny is alive.'

Rangiku kept her eyes on her Captain, watching him think, not about what Takeshi said, but something else. His options. What he must do. Then he stood, tall, unstoppable. 'She's alive,' he said, and excused himself. 'Thank you for the food, Aizo.' As soon as he exited the hut, Rangiku realised she had been holding her breath.

* * *

There was a lake, not far from where Tōshirō used to live. Most days when he was younger and Momo had gone to the Shinigami Academy, Tōshirō spent his time here, flicking stones into the water, watching the liquid ripple from the impact. Trees crowded the lake, and no place had looked so beautiful to him. He enjoyed it here, where he could spend time alone. It was exactly how it used to be, when he was a boy, nothing had changed.

Arms folded, he gazed into the lake, and felt soothed. Thoughts fluttered in his mind, but they were very clear thoughts. His decision was made as soon as he heard of his Granny's whereabouts. The bandits Takeshi spoke about were familiar to him. Momo endured a lot of hassle from the "bandits" who liked to make life grim for others. Their taunts ceased when Hitsugaya managed to put a stop to them. Violence was the only cause of action he could make.

Now, they had come for more, and it was the biggest mistake of their lives. Tōshirō's zanpakutō felt heavy, strapped to his back, and he knew Hyōrinmaru was prepared, prepared for whatever demand his Master wanted. He was prepared, ready, and so was Tōshirō. The anger in his veins could not be tamed, he was a man, standing alone, without guidance.

His concentration was divided, on his Grandmother's whereabouts, and on Matsumoto. Out of everyone in that hut, she was the only one who truly knew what was going on in his mind. That he had slowly lost control. At the moment, she was still in the hut, possibly still talking to the couple and the child they took into their care. Soon, he felt her spiritual pressure come closer and closer, and he turned, watching Matsumoto approach him.

There was a plate of sliced watermelon in her hands.

Looking for each other wasn't a hassle. They recognised each other's spiritual pressure so well. 'I thought you might be hungry, seeing as you didn't eat anything.'

It was in that moment he was glad he brought her with him. 'Come. Let me show you where I used to live.'

Together, they retreated from the lake and proceeded for the little hut he once belonged to. Like the lake, nothing had changed. Tōshirō's bed was still there, as if his Grandmother expected him to return. In some ways, it was quite sad. Placing the plate of watermelon down, Rangiku admired the fireplace. Rangiku had been here before, met his Granny, and loved their hut. It was so small and sweet, to think little Hitsugaya used to live here.

Yet there was a misery about him. Removing his haori, he placed it around the back of a chair before dealing with the fireplace.

'Oh! Captain, it's all right. I'm not cold.'

'My Grandmother enjoyed fires. We were both so unsure why it was cold all the time, it never made sense. She always put the fire on. It doesn't feel right to not have a fire.' Of course, Hitsugaya had never put on a fire in his life, so required Matsumoto's help. Once it was lit, they poured a kettle of water, and made tea.

His Grandmother still had fruit tea bags in her pot. Tōshirō hesitated to take some, but Matsumoto assured him she wouldn't mind. 'They're for you as well, Captain.'

'For us,' he corrected, and she smiled softly at him. _Us_. He was acknowledging they were a team again. Possibly.

Once they were seated with fruit tea in their hands, watermelon between them, they were in silence. The windows fogged up due to the heat inside, and Rangiku soon felt nice and warm. It was bizarre that her Captain wanted the warmth as well, but she wasn't going to say anything.

'Are you going to talk to me?' Rangiku asked.

He sighed, eyeing his tea. 'There's not much to say.' He looked up. 'This place– it puts me on edge, Matsumoto. I never realised how unsafe it was until now. When we head back, remind me to make a report about the mess of this district.'

'Captain,' she said, shuffling closer to him. He looked at her when she placed a hand on his arm. 'Your Grandmother is going to be fine. You'll find out what those idiots want from you.'

'They're not having anything, Matsumoto.'

'I should think not...' She pulled back, allowed him to take a slice of watermelon. 'I'll come with you.'

'That I forbid,' he said sharply. 'You're staying here. I won't require backup, and I'd rather do this alone. You'll only get in my way.'

His words cut her like knives. 'If you say so.'

Tōshirō looked at her, and he was her exact opposite. His face was hard and rough, hers soft, worried. Sometimes, he wished he had never met her, never met this woman. He cared too much. He knew he had upset her by his words, and that only upset him too, but he wouldn't admit that. 'I do say so, Matsumoto.' He stood to his feet, running a hand through his hair. 'You left. Your loyalty has been proven.'

'I left because I thought you left me,' she said, placing her mug down and standing. 'I thought I was nothing to you; you said, yourself, you wished I was dead.'

'No!' Hitsugaya swivelled around on his heel and glared at her. 'No, I do not wish you were dead, don't you _ever_ suggest that again!' He stopped, and she saw him trembling, shaking, trying to control his emotions. 'When you were dead, when I _thought_ you were dead, it was the worst time of my life... Can you honestly blame me for not trusting you anymore? You broke our trust.'

'... Why didn't you search for me?'

'I told you.'

'You're afraid of seeing me dead?' Rangiku clenched a fist, remembering their conversation last night. 'That's your _duty_, Captain. One day, you'll have to watch your friends die. I'm very capable of dying; you _must_ make sure I'm gone. Allowing a soldier to go astray––'

'I thought you'd come back to me.'

Rangiku swallowed. 'And I thought you'd come back to me.'

Watching him get into such a state was horrible, it upset her. Tōshirō shook his head, teeth ajar. He ran a hand through his hair again, pulled, growled loudly. 'Damn it, I'm not _perfect_! Isn't that obvious? I'm the worst commanding officer you'll ever see, Matsumoto, but I can't help that. I can't help who I am. I just _am_.' Hitsugaya exhaled, 'There's nothing I can do to change how I am.'

'I don't want you to change; I'd hate for you to change.'

'Then accept who I am,' he said, lowering his voice. 'Your dead body is useless to me, like my dead body is to you. I don't mourn over corpses, of what's been. That's what I believe, even if you disagree.' He was struggling with words. 'I–– I don't want my Grandmother to die, I don't want her to be a dead body, useless.'

'I'm sorry.'

Tōshirō softened his expression slightly. 'I know you are, but that doesn't make me trust you all over again.'

'What are you going to do?' This wasn't a conversation between a commanding officer and his subordinate. This was a conversation between two close friends, uncertain of their decisions and themselves. Lost, even when they were crowded by faces.

Tōshirō knew what she was referring to. What he intended to do next, leave, or find her. 'You know I have no choice.'

'You don't,' she said. 'I'll remain alert here.'

'Don't come for me. I shouldn't be long, but don't come for me. Stay here. You'll know whether it's time to leave and stop waiting.'

Rangiku couldn't believe what he was suggesting. No, she was not like him. She would not leave his body to rot on the battlefield, she would carry him back in her own arms if she could. However, he was her superior, and if she disobeyed an order, she was disrupting their trust even further. And she had no right to do that. Not after what happened. 'Yes, Captain.'

The room smelt of fruit tea, the fire crackled, and her skin glowed in the light. Hitsugaya watched her, held her gaze, then grabbed his haori and pulled it on. 'I'll be back before dawn. You wait here for me, all right?'

'I'll wait.' _Waiting_. How much she loathed waiting. Rangiku had never felt so useless in her life. She wanted to convince Hitsugaya that bringing her with him would be wise, that she'd defend him. Yet that would be fruitless. He wasn't having any of it. 'Captain?'

'Mm?'

Rangiku watched his back while he dressed, prepared himself. _He's not a boy anymore_.

'Be safe. Please.'

He turned around to look at her. 'I don't believe in safety.'

And she wrapped her arms around his neck, and hugged him. Hitsugaya stood there, frozen, motionless, her body pressed against his. It had been so long since she embraced him, but this one... didn't feel the same. She clung to him tightly, as if this would be the last time they'd touch, see each other again. Tōshirō placed his hands at her hips, inhaled her sweet scent, a perfume she had worn since he first joined the Gotei. That was so long ago now.

Then she moved away, slid her hands down his chest and stepped aside, reluctantly. Tōshirō was aware she'd rather come with him, and, in some ways, he wanted her too as well. But this was his doing, his business. Alone, it would be dealt with quicker. _She wouldn't be there to tame the beast_.

'I'll return,' he promised.

She silently let him exit the hut, and once the door was closed, the fire flickered, then blew out, mourning his departure.

* * *

**author's note**: Thank you **Kiwifan7**, **Kenseikan** and **sagitgirlth** for reviewing the prior chapter. I appreciate that loads, but I'm sure you know. Just wanted to say I've written two new HitsuMatsu oneshots, titled _Constant_ and _Veil_. Check them out if you want to! Until next time.


	6. Presence

Snowfall  
**Chapter 6.**

* * *

Rangiku was _not_ the waiting type. As soon as Tōshirō left, she couldn't help be reminded of the times Gin used to leave her without saying a word. How she'd chase after him out of the house, only too late. The boy would always vanish, no explanation given. A passive boy, incapable of showing his affections. Gin was even worse than Hitsugaya, as cold as a snake, such a mystery. There was mischief in his eyes whenever she saw him, but, being so young, she didn't know what to make of it.

This time, when Tōshirō went through the door, there wasn't mischief in his gaze. All she saw was this hidden anger, one which was ready to unleash. It was _frightening_, to witness her Captain behave like that. Ageing had allowed Hitsugaya to _control_ his rage; he was a lot better than he used to be. However, the cure was not permanent. When she hugged him, held him close, she didn't want to let go. She wanted him to suddenly change his mind, hug her back. She wanted to say sorry over and over again for abandoning him, for leaving his side. How much she wanted to kiss the wounds better, for him to wrap his arms around her, forgive her for the awful things she did.

Right now, though, his entire concentration was on his Grandmother. The one person he considered family. Rangiku didn't really have a family. In fact, all she had was Gin. She knew what it was like to lose someone, to lose someone so precious. All she could do was _hope_ Tōshirō's Grandmother was all right, but the waiting was killing her. Maybe she was being too optimistic, but she prepared the little home for his Grandmother, so she could return to a nice, warm futon. Rangiku even went out to one of the little markets, bought some food, and, more of a distraction than anything, cooked dinner. Tōshirō did not live in a _wealthy_ environment; she was restricted with what equipment she could use, but the soup she made wasn't bad. Yet, when the hour had ticked to almost nine in the evening, he still hadn't come back.

She regretted not asking him _where_ he was going, where these bandits were. That way, she would have been able to check if he was all right. Then she remembered his words, how much he didn't want her to follow him. _He doesn't want to lose me as well_. It was ridiculous, ridiculous that, after what she did, he _still_ couldn't bare the thought of losing her. Never in her life had she meant that much to _anyone_. Tōshirō would never feel this way for anyone, either. It was a terrible possessiveness, only showing how insecure he truly was.

Exiting the tiny hut, she was embraced in darkness. Thankfully, Hitsugaya's Grandmother had a lantern in her home, so Rangiku decided to borrow it. Unable to wait any longer, she began walking ahead, passing the lake, before reaching the entrance to a wood. Tōshirō had gone through there, she could recognise his spiritual pressure, cold and chilling; she shivered. Then she realised, his spiritual pressure felt stronger, _closer_. Gasping in surprise, she hurried forwards, 'Captain!'

A tall, shadowy figure appeared. Rangiku raised her lantern, looked up. A flood of relief washed through her when she realised it was Hitsugaya, and she would have ran over and hugged him if she didn't see the elderly lady in his arms. Tōshirō's small Grandmother wasn't conscious, and Hitsugaya himself looked close to collapsing. Instantly Rangiku rushed to his side, pulled at his sleeve and escorted her Captain back home. She hadn't seen him properly yet, didn't know if he was wounded, didn't know if his Grandmother was _alive_.

God, she was desperate to _ask_, to demand he tell her what happened, but she was patient. Together, they returned home and Hitsugaya carefully placed his Grandmother onto the ready-made futon. Finally, Rangiku was able to see her properly. The poor lady's clothing was slightly tattered, and she had endured quite a few harsh beatings, bruises evident across her face. Looking at Hitsugaya, she watched him grab a pot and pour cold water into it, before kneeling beside the futon. Gently, he shook his Grandmother awake. Rangiku didn't notice her stir, but Hitsugaya surely had, because he tipped the pot to her lips, so she could drink. Stepping closer, Matsumoto wrapped the warm blankets over his Grandmother, and soon she was asleep again.

Voice quiet, Rangiku turned to Hitsugaya. 'Are you all right?' She only had to look at him for her question to be answered. Dirt was splashed across his face and robes, and his lower lip was cut, bleeding, a side of his temple also dripping with blood. However, he didn't seem to care, didn't seem to _notice. '_Captain––'

'She's dehydrated and suffering starvation. Matsumoto, it is your responsibility to make sure she's fed. As soon as she wakes up, serve her the soup you kindly made.'

Matsumoto completely forgot about her cooking, and she almost found it sad how he _acknowledged_ her hospitality. Before Tōshirō could leave again, she grabbed him by the sleeve, 'You must stay with her, Captain. She wants to see you when she wakes up, not me. And you're _hurt_.' This was horrible, all of this.

'I need to get more wood for the fire.'

'Let me do that! Stay here and rest––'

'Matsumoto, stop being uncooperative.' To her surprise, he didn't sound angry or frustrated. He just sounded exhausted, close to giving in. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. 'I don't want to stay here. Let me go.'

Dropping her gaze to the hand which clung to his sleeve, she reluctantly released him. Allowed him to leave the hut again. But she would obey his orders, do what he wanted, do whatever she could to make sure his Grandmother was well. The fire and lantern was all she had for light. It was starting to get chilly, too. Despite this, though, she still wanted Tōshirō to come back. To be here, do what he _should_ be doing. Half an hour had passed, and he still hadn't returned. Fetching wood for the fire wouldn't take this long.

After checking his Grandmother's temperature again, she grabbed another blanket and laid it over her. Unfortunately, she hadn't woken up yet, but the soup would last. An hour had gone, and Matsumoto had had enough. She didn't intend to go very far, but she knew Tōshirō was close anyway. The lake. He was there, back faced to her. She imagined he had been staring at the lake for the past hour, uncertain with what to do. Rangiku didn't care though; she just couldn't believe he wasn't going to be there for someone who needed him.

'What are doing, Captain?'

Tōshirō didn't seem to be listening. Arms folded, he had his eyes closed, almost as if he were meditating. Rangiku stopped short behind him, and at once the anger she felt vanished. She had a feeling he was avoiding his Grandmother because the effect she had on him. Rangiku wouldn't be able to imagine what he was feeling. For a moment, she watched him, then slowly turned away.

'Don't leave.'

She stopped. After a second, she peered at him over her shoulder. 'I don't want to disturb you.'

'Your presence soothes me.' Hitsugaya sighed.

Rangiku frowned. 'Your presence might help your Grandmother.'

'No.' Tōshirō's arms fell to his sides, and he faced her. She couldn't see him very well in the little light they shared. 'I'm losing control of my spiritual pressure, Matsumoto. This hasn't happened since I joined the Academy. This place– does no favours for me. I'll only freeze her to death.'

'You can control it, Captain. You're just frightened.'

'I'm not scared, Matsumoto. I _shouldn't_ be.'

'No one said you had to be _anything_. I don't care if you're scared, it's fine if you are. Just– you're needed right now. I don't like it when you're this way.'

Tōshirō came closer, and she could feel his chilling spirit, how it tingled her body, made her tremble. Yes, Hitsugaya was right: he was losing control of his reiatsu, but that didn't mean anything. It didn't mean he was weak. So much had happened in such a short space of time. It was fine to feel this way. 'I wish I could forget what I saw, Matsumoto.' His tone was blunt, but when he inhaled, she realised he was shaking. 'They treated her like some sort of prisoner, as if waiting for me to come fetch her.'

'You did. She's alive and she's safe.' Rangiku grabbed his hand, and squeezed. She couldn't see his face; it was too dark, but she wanted him to squeeze back, prove to her he was still breathing too. He was _okay_.

When he spoke, that stoic, cold Tōshirō was gone. His voice was deeper, holding a poisonous, vile tone. His tongue was sharp. That of a snake. A dragon. 'They're monsters, Matsumoto. It is survival of the fittest out here; there's no time to sit back and think about what's right. Only _murder_ is just. They were _slaughtering_ her, they wanted _me_ to feel _disturbed_ by what they were doing. This is _exactly_ why I act like I do. Attachment is dangerous, it is so dangerous, and look what attachment has done to me. Look what attachment has done to you. I left the area with my Grandmother, I left quietly, without being noticed. I harmed no one.' Then he squeezed her hand. 'But, believe me, if she dies, I'll return. And _none of them_ will escape alive.'

'Captain––'

'I'll kill every one of them. Rip them to shreds, freeze their insides so they burst. That's what they want.'

'No,' Rangiku placed her other hand over his. She wanted to see his face, see his eyes, and she stepped closer, felt his haori, let her hand cling to the fabric, pull him close. 'Don't give them what they want. They did this for such stupid, disgusting reasons; they're not worth your time, Captain. I don't– You don't need to go back. Just stay here. Look after your Grandmother; she'll be well again, I promise.'

A cold hand rested at her cheek, and she felt a shot of lightning where he touched her. Tōshirō, despite his anger, was gentle. 'This is what makes you so wonderful. To you, there isn't any _need_ to feel anger, to hate someone, even after death. You're so loving and forgiving. That is something I'll never be. I wish I could do that for you. I wish I could forgive you just as easily when you left. Your death wasn't easy for me. I hide it well, I know, but I'm so _weak_ inside.'

Before she knew it, a tear had trickled down her cheek, and she was grateful for how dark it was. Her hand came to reach his at her face. 'Emotions don't make you weak. I wish you wouldn't think that.'

'Matsumoto, I need you to look after Granny for me. Don't you understand? I'll only make a mess of things.' His hand fell. 'I've never been good at this, even when I was young. Helping people. I just can't do it. I'm either lacking in sympathy to care, or I care too much to actually _do_ anything. I only trust you to do this.'

This was a moment which wouldn't be shared ever again. Never had Hitsugaya been so _open_ with anyone, and although Matsumoto should feel touched, she just felt _desperate_. How much she hated to see him this way, upset and beaten. A hand reached over, felt his rough face, dried blood beneath her thumb. She let her fingers run through his hair, rest at the back of his head, then pushed his face closer. Matsumoto allowed him to rest his forehead against hers, allowed herself to be his crutch. It was getting colder, a lot colder, and she struggled to not shiver, but she just wanted him close. As close as possible.

Rangiku squeezed his hair affectionately, wanting him to say how he _truly_ felt. How upset and heartbroken he was, but that wasn't going to happen. Not even to her would he reveal his thoughts and feelings. 'I'll do whatever you ask of me.' Then he sighed, possibly in relief, she wasn't sure. 'Come back soon, though, Captain. Your soup will get cold.' They let each other go, and she left Hitsugaya standing before the lake, alone.

Wiping the stray tear from her cheek, she honestly wanted to run back there, and hug him like she used to. Make him feel loved and at home. She wanted his Grandmother to wake up, berate him for acting so silly. All she wanted was Tōshirō to feel happy, but when was the last time he ever _smiled_? When was the last time he ever stopped, and felt nothing but joy? It was a gift she wasn't able to offer him.

_He's growing up too fast for me_.

What an idiot she had been for leaving him, for believing he didn't care about her. Her hand was shaking when she poured hot soup into a bowl, approaching the futon. Tōshirō's Grandmother had stirred a few minutes ago, but hadn't spoken or opened her eyes. She needed a source of energy. The poor, broken lady was barely alive. Rangiku didn't want to force feed her, and she fortunately didn't have to. The elderly lady was trying to be as cooperative as she could. She always had been, not allowing her age to become a burden to those who visited her. Matsumoto knew who Tōshirō got all of his determination from. As soon as Hitsugaya's Grandmother had digested some of the soup, Rangiku could already see an improvement, there was more colour to her cheeks.

The door opened and Rangiku turned, watching Tōshirō step inside, a pile of wood in his arms. Neither said a word. Hitsugaya looked at his resting Grandmother, before approaching the fire, and adding more wood. Soon, the hut was warm and snug, but dark. Both Hitsugaya and Matsumoto relied on the flames to help them see. Tōshirō came over to sit beside his Lieutenant, and passed her a bowl of soup, before settling down with his. He was hungry as well, and Rangiku's soup tasted delicious. The Captain engorged it all quickly, and then raised himself to inspect his Grandmother properly.

'You never told me her name.'

Tōshirō didn't look at her. 'Akari. Has she been all right?'

'Yes. There's more colour to her face.' Rangiku placed her bowl down, put a hand on Tōshirō's shoulder. 'She needs to rest. You do as well.'

Without a word, he stood to his feet and approached one of the cupboards. Inside, there were a couple of blankets. They weren't the nicest but they would do. Matsumoto helped Hitsugaya spread a sheet across the floor, applying a blanket on top. There was a pillow for each of them, but both pillows sank down really low. They weren't cushiony at all. Matsumoto wasn't going to complain. She didn't mind. She had lived in such poor conditions as well. Slipping off his haori, Tōshirō climbed under the blanket with her, and lay down onto his back. He stared upwards, heard the fire crackling nearby. Rest. That sounded impossible right now.

The Captain looked down when Rangiku shuffled closer, placing an arm around his chest, and resting her head at his shoulder. Tōshirō didn't push her away. Instead, he wrapped an arm about her as well, rolled onto his side so they could hug. It was remarkable how Rangiku was able to express so much affection; it was even beginning to rub off on him. Tōshirō could see her face thanks to the fire, watched her sleep, or attempt to. In a way, he knew she wasn't sleeping. They just needed to hold each other close until the night finally left, and the sun would appear over the clouds.

Rangiku moved further in, resting her head at his chest, and his arms came around her like a cage, his nose touching her forehead. Tōshirō remained alert, alert of his Grandmother's heartbeat, and alert of Matsumoto, resting beside him. He was more than grateful that she came with him, that she was here. Without her, he wouldn't have managed. Without her, _ever_, he wouldn't _manage at all_.

At the end of the day, he didn't care if she faked her death. He was just so _thankful_ she was still alive, with him.

* * *

'––_your choice, not mine. I didn't ask for any of this.'_

'_Too late. It's already happened.'_

_A loud __**clash**__ echoed the room. '... Bloody Hell. I'm sorry.'_

'_Sir, don't worry. Just– try and stay calm, all right? Your wife will be fine.'_

'_You don't know that. She was coughing up blood, I saw her. She collapsed in my arms, and when I passed her onto a doctor, she was so pale. She was __**dead**__, Jonathan.'_

'_Try and stay positive.'_

'_I've got a damn kid to look of––'_

'_Shh...'_

'_... I can't leave my daughter, but they need me in the army. I have to go to war. Where will she go?'_

'_Her aunt can take care of her. Look, let's not worry about your child right now.'_

'_My child? You idiot, my child is all I have left!'_

_A girl, no older than five, had her ear pressed against the door. She was small, blonde, with the brightest blue eyes. In her hand was her favourite bedtime story, and Daddy had promised to read her this tonight. However, some old man had appeared at their door, and he told her to wait in her bedroom. An hour had passed, and he still hadn't come, so the little girl decided to check what was going on._

_What she heard, none of it made sense. Why were they talking about Mummy this way? The girl saw her leave, saw her wave at her, promising she'd be back soon. What was Daddy saying about her looking so pale? Why was that a problem? Most people she met looked pale. And dead? She wasn't dead! The little girl saw Mummy alive and happy, she kissed her forehead before she left. _

_Suddenly the door opened and the little girl stepped back, wide eyed. The strange old man was there, and he looked down at her, raised a brow. Sighed. 'Michael, your daughter is here.'_

'_.. What? Oh shit!' Daddy soon came into view, and his face softened. 'Hey, baby. Look, wait me for me upstairs, all right? Daddy won't be long. I'm just having a very important discussion with this nice man.'_

_Gunpowder. She could smell gunpowder on his suit._

_The girl looked up at the "nice man", and had a feeling he wasn't nice at all. However, she wasn't going to disobey Daddy's orders. The girl hurried over to the staircase, and climbed the big steps. It was exhausting, clambering up and down the staircase, and by the time she reached her futon, she was exhausted. Why was Daddy taking so long to read her bedtime story? They were so close to the most exciting part as well._

_Yet, more minutes passed. Another hour. She had almost fallen asleep, and that would have been a very bad idea. Daddy needed to read her story! Confused and even upset, the little girl hopped off her futon and reached the top of the staircase. She stopped when she saw the old man leave the house, and then––_

_Wait. Why was Daddy grabbing his coat and leaving too?_

'_Papa!'_

_She ran as fast as her little legs could carry her, book tight in her grip. The girl ran for the door before it would shut on her, but it was so **heavy**. She struggled, and pushed the door with all her might. When she had a small gap to squeeze through, she did so, entering the pouring rain. _

'_Papa!'_

_There was Daddy. Talking to the old man, and he looked so sad and upset. Then he saw her, at the door, widened his eyes. 'Rangiku, get back to bed!'_

_... he had never sounded so angry before. The girl just stood there, and was about to ask where he was going, but he wouldn't give a response. _

'_Your Papa is leaving you for a while!' The old man said. 'Now, go wait for him.'_

_She tried to catch Daddy's gaze, but he wasn't looking at her. She watched him sit in the car, and then soon, the vehicle was driving off. Daddy didn't suddenly stop the car, decide to put his daughter back into bed. He didn't seem to care._

_Book in hand, Rangiku didn't move. Soon, her novel was utterly soaked, and illegible, the pages dripping with water. The little girl waited all night for her Daddy to return––_

* * *

Rangiku awoke. The sun beamed in through the cobwebbed window, and the fire had gone out, smoke in its wake. She closed her eyes slightly, remained still in her Captain's arms, but when she looked up at him, she saw he, too, was awake. His eyes were not on her, they were ahead, and he seemed to be thinking. What about, she didn't know. Rangiku bowed her head a little and snuggled closer to him.

Never had she endured such a graphic dream before in her life; it was like a memory almost, it didn't really _feel_ like a dream. However, she couldn't put her finger on _when _such a memory occurred. In fact, she was certain to have never lived a life with a man who abandoned her, forgot to read her bedtime stories. A man who spoke about his wife in grief, about her death, or the idea of her death.

Gunpowder.

That scent, that scent she recognised.

Oh, nothing made sense! Maybe if she spoke to Tōshirō about this; asked what he thought, but she had a feeling he wouldn't be able to help. Anyway, he had enough on his mind already. For a few more minutes, they remained in each other's arms, until he moved. Rangiku shuffled out of his grip and he stood to his feet, approaching the futon where his Grandmother lay.

'Granny?'

Rangiku sat upright.

'.. oh, oh little Tōshirō, it's you.'

Although she didn't know Akari very well, the amount of relief Rangiku felt when she heard her voice was unbelievable. Rangiku stood to her feet and came to join her Captain. Yes, she was awake, just about able to peer at Hitsugaya from under her heavy eyelids. Rangiku hurried to grab a pot of water, before passing it to Tōshirō. 'Granny, you need to drink. You're dehydrated.'

It took some effort, but she managed to down some of the water. 'You– you're so big.' She reached over and placed a hand at his cheek. 'When did you start growing?'

Tōshirō could only smile, but he knew she wasn't well. He was lucky to see her awake, to have this with her. Already, he could feel her slipping between his fingers. 'Hi, Granny,' he said. 'I'm sorry I didn't come sooner to see how you were.'

'You've been a busy boy,' she said, forgiving him instantly.

* * *

**author's note**: Thank you **krikanalo**, **Kiwifan7**, **sagitgirlth** and **Shirohitsu** for reviewing the prior chapter!


	7. Truth

Snowfall  
**Chapter 7.**

* * *

–– '_If you had only a minute left to live, what would you do?'  
_'_I'd tell her the truth.'_

* * *

Grabbing Hyōrinmaru, Tōshirō sheathed the blade, and peeked out of the window. His assumptions were correct, and, for once, he hated being right. Now, at least his questions would be answered. Seven men were approaching the hut, in a tight group, and Tōshirō recognised their attire. The one in front sported an ugly mask, making him appear frightening to most, but Tōshirō was accustomed to masks. After all, he wore one himself.

Lowering his gaze, he considered his options. 'They followed me here,' he whispered under his breath. They had tracked him. Of course. His Grandmother was merely the bait. Turning, he caught Rangiku's gaze. 'Stay here. I'll deal with them.' However, all she wanted was to grab him by the arm and go _herself_. This was what those men wanted, they wanted him to lose his temper, let insanity roll. They were smart, it seemed, and she didn't want her Captain to become their prize. Yet, his sharp glance stopped her, and she had never seen him look so _terrifying_. 'That's an order.'

Matsumoto was one of few people who wasn't afraid of him, but he managed to stun her in that moment. Stepping back, she reluctantly allowed Hitsugaya to exit the hut by himself. His Grandmother had fallen back to sleep, and they had found out earlier today that she was infected. This infection, for now, was untreatable, and Rangiku knew that wouldn't help her Captain's mood. Even though he had closed the door, barred her view, she could still feel him, sense his movements, his _anger_. And she knew he was currently in control.

Expression blank, Hitsugaya watched the seven approach. The one in the mask was chuckling, almost dancing in his step. His mask was painted, grinning, eyes shut closed. At once, Hitsugaya was reminded of Ichimaru, and he quickly shook his head. No. _No, don't think about him_. Tōshirō said nothing until the one in front was inches from him. 'Ah, little Hitsugaya, it's been a while.'

'Not long enough,' Tōshirō stepped over, '_Captain_ Hitsugaya, and the joke's on you. I'm not little. I'm, in fact, taller than you.' This was the case, yet the man in the mask had no pride to wound.

'Hitsugaya,' he sighed, 'I remember some of my men telling me about you. When you used to live here, you all never got on.' Hitsugaya said nothing. 'I'm going to offer you something nice. Lately, I've noticed how much you've improved. Your skills as a Shinigami are far more impressive than most. We could really use someone like you.'

Scanning his eyes over the other six men, Tōshirō actually felt _insulted_. 'In order to show your loyalty, you take my Grandmother, almost kill her, and then track me down? I don't work with evil.'

'Evil? Ooh, that's a bit harsh. No offence, _Captain_, but you don't seem sweet and innocent yourself.'

'That's right: I'm not. I may work with the good and innocent. Don't you dare believe I'm one of them, though.'

And suddenly the land at his feet began to freeze. The man in the mask backed away slightly, shocked for a second, then he started laughing. 'Captain, you could do so much _more_ with me. You know they're holding you back at the Gotei. Too scared to let you advance on your abilities. They're _scared_ of you, don't you get it? There's no one waiting for you back at the Gotei. However, with us, you'll be treated as one. Together, Captain, we'll overthrow the Gotei, make it our own. Those Shinigami there are worth nothing against you. You can still improve on your abilities, but I can help you with that.'

Tōshirō cocked his head back. 'The Gotei is not my home, and I do not expect to be welcomed back with open arms.'

'_Here_, with us, you'll be home.'

'––It is loyalty which matters to me most. I don't need a home. I don't need a building to keep me comfortable and warm, to feel safe. I don't require sly men to embrace me every time I return back to them. What matters to me is that I can turn around, be assured that I'm not alone. That I have the support I need. I don't expect my men to run away from a fight, and I don't expect them to love me, or cherish me, or whatever it is that you _weaklings_ crave. The Gotei's loyalty is stronger than you'll ever be able to comprehend. Your loyalty was proven when you hurt what was closest to me.'

A sigh. A disappointed sigh. The man then removed his grinning mask, and his face was revealed. Or, what was left of it. His flesh looked as if it were melted, eyes drooping, the bone of his jaw viewable. He looked horrific. A monster. 'You're even more foolish than I thought you were. The Gotei certainly proved their loyalty to _me_. I apologise, we haven't met before. I was fourth seat of the Sixth Division, Himura. You wouldn't have heard of me.'

'What happened to you?' Tōshirō asked.

'My Captain proved his loyalty to me when he abandoned me on the battlefield. He didn't come back to search for me, to make sure I was alive.'

'Kuchiki?'

'... Oh no. Not Kuchiki. Ha! _Long_ before Kuchiki took the seat. No, this man was... a lot like you.'

Tōshirō unsheathed his zanpakutō, and focussed his attention on Himura. This was worse than he expected. These men had attacked his Grandmother, just so they could find Hitsugaya and _use_ him as a weapon against the Gotei. Himura smirked, or attempted to. It looked agony to smile.

'I thought you'd be uncooperative.'

'Leave. You're lucky I haven't ripped you to shreds already.'

'Oh, am I? I don't know. Death sounds blissful. Every day, I am in pain. Death is a release.' Then Himura stopped smiling, and he studied Hitsugaya for a moment. '.. You may be uncooperative, but perhaps _she_ might find my proposal appealing.'

The blade went straight for Himura's chest. Tōshirō instantly regretted his actions. _I didn't think_. Himura was speedy, and while he didn't own a zanpakutō spirit, he was equally, if not more skilled, when it came to a duel. Their blades _clang_ed together, and Himura was laughing, cackling at how Hitsugaya suddenly reacted as soon as Rangiku was implied. Himura's hollow eyes looked into Tōshirō's, and his smile wavered, then he gasped.

'You are such a damaged soul, Hitsugaya.'

Tōshirō shoved him forwards, and jumped back, clinging to Hyōrinmaru. '_You_ are damaged. Your perception on loyalty is twisted because you couldn't handle the fact your Captain left you.'

'Left me?' Himura laughed again, then scowled. 'He _abandoned_ me! I was nothing but a little toy he could throw around, and when I realised I meant nothing to him, _I_ left. He didn't want me, and nothing stops me in believing that the rest of the Gotei is like that. Hence why it is a failing organisation. You all lack sympathy for your comrades. And _you_, out of everyone, Hitsugaya, are by far the worst. I have one or two friends at the Gotei, and they like to tell me stories about you. How you stabbed your friend– _twice_, in fact. How you felt no remorse when it came to murder, and that you were more than happy to leave your precious Vice-Captain half dead in the middle of a war. She has strength, that one, to be coming back to you.' A snort. 'How _sweet_.'

'Your words are fruitless, Himura. I couldn't care less.'

'... You're still angry at her for leaving you, which I find to be ironic. Aw, you wanted your love to come hurrying back into your arms. To forgive you and understand what you did. The idea of her dying _kills_ you. That's why you ran away.'

It then occurred to Tōshirō what this man was doing: reading his mind. Never had he faced someone with this sort of ability, never even _thought_. Tōshirō was in front of a man who knew his greatest weakness. His mind. The one thing that made him struggle, what kept him up at night.

'And she is absolutely pathetic to be with you still––'

'_Don't_ talk about her that way... and you don't you _dare_ criticise her loyalty for me. Leave her out of this.'

'Nah, I think she's the _centre_ of what's happening here. Your temper has spiked ever since I referred to her, Captain.'

'What do you want?'

Himura slumped his shoulders, and then placed his mask back on. He turned to glance at his waiting men, then back at Tōshirō. 'I apologise for hurting your dear Grandmother, Hitsugaya. She is a lovely woman, who didn't deserve this treatment. However, it was the only way I could get your attention. Now I have it, I'll ask one more time: will you aid me, or will you betray me, and remain a "loyal subject" to the Gotei?'

'You're dead to me.'

Himura claimed the helm of his blade. 'So be it. Captain, if you so wish to kill me, then make it a fair fight. I'm sure you'd agree that using Bankai would be... _unjust_. You are a _fair_ man. So, be fair.'

'Do not fool yourself into thinking achieving Bankai has made me the way I am.'

'No. I know for a fact you were _always_ a cold, bitter bastard.'

It was fury which made Hitsugaya's attack so heavy. His zanpakutō rammed into Himura's, but Himura was faster than he previously thought. Cackling, he jumped into the air, dodging Tōshirō's approaching attack. However, Tōshirō was speedy too, and he charged for him again, and their swords met. The next few minutes Hitsugaya kept his focus entirely on Himura's movements, his fast, sharp blade _clang_ing into his repeatedly, but he was too quick. Suddenly Tōshirō realised he was trapped, and Himura was possessed, the sharp point of his blade continuously aiming for his head. This wasn't a duel. This was desperation, a desperate attempt for revenge.

When he laughed, all Hitsugaya heard was sadness. 'When I'm done with you, I'll be fucking done with your little bitch!'

_No_. Not Rangiku. Tōshirō swerved, his zanpakutō knocking into Himura's, causing the male to topple backwards. Before he could regain his balance, Hitsugaya darted at him, and his blade sliced across his middle. A scream echoed the tiny village, but Himura was still standing, then laughing again.

'You're so scared, Hitsugaya. Couldn't _stand_ the sight of your _Granny_ all bleeding and wounded, and now the thought of your whore has you going _insane_.' Himura cocked his head slightly, gesturing a message to the rest of his six men. Before Hitsugaya had time, all six charged for him, their blades shining and pointed. The Captain Shunpo'd a few metres away, glanced at each of them, and then dashed forwards. Right now, he was an army of his own. Hyōrinmaru was light in his hand, and he felt as if he could fly, a freeze chilling his bones. It didn't take much to kill the majority of them. They were inexperienced, hadn't been taught by the best Tutors of the Gotei. _Insubordinate fools_.

However, one of them was very good. Tōshirō was busy dealing with two men at a time, and wasn't expecting the one from behind. A horrid, cold, sharp cut ruptured his flesh across his back, and he hissed between his teeth, struggling to turn around and defend himself. Yet, Himura was soon at the scene, 'Mm, just how I want him.'

Tōshirō's heard the blade, but it never touched him. Slowly, he looked up, and actually felt relieved Matsumoto had disobeyed his order. Himura growled in frustration, the mask covering his glare, and Rangiku knew this man wasn't someone she could shrug off as nothing. Her blade and his had met, and, thankfully, her strength matched his. He wasn't able to push her aside. Insanity dripped off his words, as he chuckled.

'Excellent. Now, Hitsugaya, watch me while I tear her into tiny shreds–– Ack!' Matsumoto managed to speedily hit him at the back of the head with the helm of her sword. Tōshirō would have gone to help her, but the four men which crowded him were soon at his tail.

Swivelling around, Hitsugaya slashed his zanpakutō up one of the men's throat, blood bursting from his veins, and he collapsed to the ground. The other three came at him from either side, but he was ready, as if Rangiku's presence had boosted further confidence into him. It had been a long time since they faced the enemy together, but he was aware she wasn't as skilled like she used to be. That, in her absence, she had forgotten some important teachings.

Matsumoto _had_ forgotten some of the advice her Tutors and Hitsugaya had taught her, but she was still able to match Himura. The mask he wore hadn't slipped, and his grin was constant, as if he were amused by her. Yet his confidence was too much for his own good. He underestimated her. Himura charged, and was about to stab her right through the stomach, but she defended herself quickly, before kicking him at his feet, causing Himura to fall onto his front. Rangiku wasn't going to hesitate in killing him, but he raised his hand.

'Don't you think this is only blindness on your part?'

'Says the man wearing a mask. I'm surprised you can see anything out of that.'

'Your Captain. Would he honestly come to your rescue? Would he? Really?'

That... she didn't know. She didn't _want_ to know. 'I don't care.' Rangiku thrust her zanpakutō deep into his throat, and Himura twitched violently, choking blood, the red liquid trickling down his neck. Then, he fell back, completely still.

Just as she turned around, she caught sight of Hitsugaya receiving a harsh cut across his chest.

'Captain!' It was instinct now. Instinct to protect him. Matsumoto didn't even think, didn't even consider. Both hands on the helm of her zanpakutō, she flicked it down, 'Growl, Haineko.' A storm of ash flew in their direction, and all three men, aside from Hitsugaya, were attacked. They yelped, scrunching their eyes closed, and in their distraction, Tōshirō managed to defeat each of them, one having being decapitated.

Silence. Matsumoto sighed in relief, and was about to sheathe her zanpakutō when a cold voice whispered into her ear, '_... You're not allowed to cheat, my dear_.' A hiss, and she didn't realise what had happened until she looked down, and saw the pointed end of the blade sticking out of her. Matsumoto didn't feel any pain, nothing, as if she were already numb with agony. Her vision seemed to narrow, and she tasted blood.

Then there was a scream, a shrill scream from behind her, and she felt Himura roughly pull the blade out, leaving a large hole, oozing with blood. Rangiku shivered, and the scream returned, and she had fallen to her knees, trying to grasp the situation. Blood trickled down her lips when she looked, saw ice around Himura's flesh. Soon, he was blue, and he exhaled, a puff of white smoke escaping his ajar mouth. The mask was blown off when a blizzard of snow shook the ground, and sky, and Matsumoto gasped, hand against her wound, desperate to see him, to see her Captain, to see Tōshirō.

... when the blizzard began to die, when snow gently fell into her hair, melted at her robes, she felt two cold hands at her arms. 'Matsumoto, can you hear me?' A voice, it was soft, gentle.

She still couldn't see him, as if he were snow himself, transparent against the white atmosphere. Shaking, freezing, she found his cold hand, and squeezed. 'Captain?'

'Hyōrinmaru––' She clung to him, felt his hand slip from hers, 'Sit Upon The Frozen Heavens.'

* * *

_Renji frowned at him, 'The truth?'_

_Holding the mug of tea in his hands, Hitsugaya let silence melt between them for a moment. Then, he sighed. 'Yes, the truth. Why– Why I decided to leave her. Why it was only appropriate that I do that. All I can hope for is that she'd understand. Be it the last minute of my life, or hers, she deserves to know.' He sipped at his warm drink. _

'_What is the truth then, Captain?'_

_Tōshirō shook his head. 'Maybe it's best I keep such secrets to myself for now.'_

'_Why? It'll only eat you up inside? It's been a year, Captain, and you still haven't been able to move on. I can tell... Why did you not go back for her? Anyone with an ounce of affection for someone would do that. I know I would.'_

'_Yes, well that's because you aren't me.'_

'_That's obvious.'_

_Tōshirō placed his mug down and stood to his feet, approaching the open window. It was raining. 'You don't realise how much someone means to you, until they're gone.' He sighed. 'I can't come running back for, Abarai. It's a twisted rule I live by. I can't reveal who I care about, I can't. If I do, then it is so much easier for the enemy to attack. They know my weakest point. I didn't want Matsumoto to become my weakest point. I didn't want her to turn into a weapon. By running back for her, it would be clearer what she meant to me.'_

'_Captain, she's dead. How can she become your weakest point if she's dead?'_

'_I felt her spiritual pressure leave me.' Hitsugaya didn't turn around. '... and I couldn't check. I haven't felt cold in years, Abarai. I have always been warm internally, because of her. She has always been a constant guard, and when I felt her reiatsu leave... I–– Abarai, would you be able to handle seeing the corpse of someone you cared deeply for?'_

_No hesitance. 'I would check, at least.'_

'_Right. That's where our differences lie.'_

'_You're scared.' Renji received no response. 'Do you love her?'_

_Tōshirō wished the sun would rise again. 'I **did**.'_

* * *

Everything came flooding back to her in an instant. One second, she was clinging to Tōshirō's hand and, the next, she found herself lying on a mattress, a blanket over her. Sitting upright, she winced in pain, a sharp jolt coursing through her middle and up her spine. Pressing her hand against her bandaged wound, she looked up, and spotted her commanding officer kneeling beside the futon where his Grandmother lay. Matsumoto frowned. Was everything okay? What had happened? Was _he _okay?

'Captain?'

He said nothing for a moment, and she wished she could see his face, see him. When he spoke, his voice was heavy, 'Matsumoto.' Then he was on his feet, leaning over his Grandmother, and Rangiku suddenly realised he was draping the sheet over her.

_... she's dead_.

It was all so fast. Nothing made sense. Rangiku scrambled to her feet, which was a very bad idea, but she ignored the pain, ignored how her wound reopened again, and grabbed the sleeve of his haori. 'What happened?'

'The infection spread,' Hitsugaya replied. '... I couldn't save her.'

'In–– Infection?'

When he turned to face her, Rangiku clung onto him tighter. She remembered the blizzard he raged not long ago, remembered his anger, and she remembered his call for Hyōrinmaru, how she fell into his arms and held him tight. Then, everything went blank, white. Everything faded away. 'Her wounds were infected, Matsumoto. I... I didn't realise until it was too late.'

Finally Rangiku could see the sheet across his Grandmother, and she shuddered. _No... No, they didn't come here to **bury** her. They came here to keep her alive, keep her breathing_. She didn't even have a chance to speak to Tōshirō, they barely spoke, the poor woman was gone so fast. The first words she spoke were a whisper, 'It's not your fault.'

Tōshirō pressed a cool, gentle hand against her wound. 'He hurt you. I thought I almost lost you, too.'

'Captain...'

'I shouldn't care, should I?' His eyes were glowing, glowing with _tears_. 'All I wanted to do was save my Grandmother's life. I only wanted to help her, like she helped me. Without her, I wouldn't be alive. It's sick. How they praise me at the Gotei, when I can't even save an innocent lady's life.' He wasn't going to hide his feelings anymore. The anger, frustration and loss was too much. 'It's not fair, Matsumoto. If I didn't become a Shinigami, she'd still be alive.'

'Don't say that––'

'It's true, though. Isn't it? Because of me, she's dead.'

Rangiku shook her head, she _hated_ him saying such dreadful things, but he wasn't going to listen.

'She had _nothing_ to do with the Gotei yet that _bastard_ used her in order to get to me. Well, he succeeded, Matsumoto.' Then a tear trickle down his bloody cheek, washing away the dirt and blood.

'Captain, it was her time to go. Don't––'

'Why did she have to die?' Hitsugaya demanded, like a lost child. He didn't believe fate could be that _harsh_ on him. 'She was my only family, Matsumoto, and she's gone.'

Two warm hands claimed either side of his face, 'Captain, stop. _Please_.'

That was the last and only tear he shed. 'They don't deserve to live.'

'Don't give into revenge. Please don't. This isn't you– you don't have to do this. _She_ wouldn't want you to do this.'

At once he removed his hand from her wound and walked to the opposite end of the hut. He exhaled heavily, running both hands through his hair, closing his eyes. 'They say I'm like _ice_. That I am as a cold as Hyōrinmaru himself. ... If I'm made of ice, then why I am so _hollow_ inside? Why do I feel so numb... so empty?' Tōshirō bowed his head. 'It's as if I have suffered so much agony, I can no longer feel a damn thing. That I am now just... so _cold_, I cannot even _understand_ emotion anymore.' He raised his head, and opened his eyes. 'If that is so, then why– why can't I bare the thought of losing you? Why does my Grandmother's death wound me?'

Rangiku was speechless, she let him talk, let him pull out his heart and reveal how rotten, and corrupted it was.

'... I am _so_ **empty**, Matsumoto.'

Both of her arms came about his waist and she pulled him to her, his back pressed against her chest. Rangiku scrunched her eyes closed, inhaled his scent... _he smells like snow_, and held him so tightly, desperately. 'I'm sorry I left you.'

Tōshirō was a statue, but his words, his breath, trembled. '... I'm sorry, too.'

At first, she thought he meant he was sorry for abandoning her on the battlefield, but she then realised he was sorry, not just for that, but for _everything_ and what he was about to do. Rangiku gasped, but she wasn't strong enough to keep him close. The wound was starting to take its toll, it was too deep, too sensitive. Tōshirō was able to remove her arms from around him, and when he turned back to her, he smiled ghostly. Eyes suddenly so clear.

'My Grandmother said she always wanted to be buried by the lake––'

'Don't go.'

'––Matsumoto.'

'Captain.'

He cupped her cheek with his hand. 'Bury her.'

Tōshirō was going to go back to where he found his Grandmother, and rip out of the soul of each individual who stood there, waiting. Rangiku couldn't let that happen. She was here to _protect_ him, to make sure he never did _anything_ like that. Despite the sheer agony she suffered, she managed to grab his hand and pull him to her. But... what was there to say? Tōshirō wouldn't listen. He wanted vengeance, he wanted those to experience his wrath.

And Hitsugaya knew she wanted him to stay, to not give into his emotions, but his decision was so _clear_ in his mind. No other decision sounded more beautiful. Holding his hand, she could _feel_ his rage, feel his desire to explode, to paint the land in ice. 'There might be too many. You're hurt–' He was. His back hadn't been treated, nor had his stomach. '–Stay.'

'I'll come back to you.'

Rangiku was about to speak, to scold him, but her voice was caught in her throat. Then her hand loosened and he slipped from her grip. She wanted to rush over, hold him, kiss him, convince him to stay, to just stay with her. That nothing else mattered, _it was going to be okay_. But it was as if he had stabbed her in the heart, the way he looked at her, she felt like his subordinate again. This was what he wanted, what he _desired_. His Grandmother meant so much to him... and he _hated_ it when someone close vanished before his eyes.

... _Momo. How he reacted to seeing her half-dead on the ground, his reaction when he almost killed her, and his response to Rangiku's death_.

There was _nothing_ good about Tōshirō. Maybe, once, he could have been an angel, bright and angelic, filled with light. Yet, he was a gargoyle, wings torn, face distorted, mind ugly. He might serve God, but he was not one with the army.

'That's what he used to tell me.'

_Gin._

And he stopped at the door, looked at her. Rangiku felt the room decrease in temperature, but he wouldn't hurt her. Her words cut through him like daggers, and he left quickly, knowing if he spent a second longer, looking at her, looking at the damage he created, he would have wept bitterly.

Tōshirō was not a man who wept, though.

The snow danced around him, and he flashed out of sight, gone.

* * *

**author's note**: Two people have asked me good questions in their reviews, so I hope they don't mind me answering in this chapter.

**[** **NamelessWanderer ]**, I totally understand what you're trying to say. I, personally, hesitated when I started to focus on Rangiku's past life, but I decided to just go for it. Of course my reasons for doing this are quite necessary for the story and the psychological issues she has when it comes to being abandoned. They go back all that way. As for realism, I.. find it hard to believe that _Bleach_ is that realistic in the first place. I admit I am stepping away from what is possibly canon, but I suppose that's the glory of fanfiction. I will be very cautious about stepping into Rangiku's life before she passed on, but I do think it's important.

**bandgirlz**, I am very new to the _Bleach_ fandom, and, no my penname wasn't changed or anything like that :P Thank you for your inspiring words; I have read your stories and being the ass that I am, I probably didn't review them? I'll fix that soon, I promise. Tōshirō, when he's older in my head, is quite a tricky character to understand. He's very cold but also very emotional. In a way, I've tried to explain why he left Rangiku in this chapter, but I don't expect my readers to sympathise. His way of dealing with a loss is a bit unusual, but Hitsugaya, to me, doesn't seem like the type to do things properly. He's a bit of an odd egg, to be honest. As for Rangiku, she's also quite complicated. She says things, but tends to not stick to her words. I think she's just very puzzled about how she feels about Hitsugaya, as would anyone who was that close to him. He's not exactly "best friend material" or anything. He's quite a jackass, to be frank. Anyway, their feelings etc. shall make more sense the further this fiction goes on.

As well as these two, I just want to say thank you so much **Kiwifan7**, **krikanalo**, **sagitgirlth** and **[ neon flux ]** for reviewing the prior chapter. By the way, I sure hope Rangiku doesn't seem OOC or weak. To me, she isn't weak for not stopping him. She _couldn't_ stop him, because Hitsugaya is awfully stubborn. Plus, she had just been stabbed right through the chest, and was treated with limited supplies. Thankfully, she is a Death God so managed to survive, but I can't expect _anyone_ to be hands-on after such a fatal impact.


	8. Repeat

Snowfall  
**Chapter 8.**

* * *

It was past midnight.

An owl called into the darkness, as if feeling lonely and needing a partner for comfort. Then, suddenly, the owl ceased hooting, and spread its beautiful wings, feathers fluttering in the breeze while it flew past a little hut. The moonlight was haunting that evening. Rangiku had to rely on the light the bright orb offered in order to bury Tōshirō's Grandmother. The more she dug, the more sore she felt. The stab wound was reopening, but Rangiku didn't stop. Anything to distract her mind on what Hitsugaya could possibly be doing.

For a few seconds, she stopped digging to catch her breath. Then, she scrunched her eyes closed. Even _she_ knew she shouldn't have let him go. Was there any point in searching for him now? Casting her gaze to the moon, she tried to find his spiritual pressure, tried to recognise his anger, what he was feeling. Maybe Tōshirō was doing this on purpose, but she couldn't sense anything. Or, were they simply becoming more distant? Rangiku could blame her wound for numbing her senses, but she wasn't convinced. She was always aware of her Captain's presence and feelings.

Rangiku dropped the shovel. Akari's corpse remained inside the hut, and if Matsumoto were to obey Tōshirō's orders, she would collect her body and bury her. No complaints, no fuss. She would bury that woman with silence and dignity. However, Rangiku was rooted to one spot. Currently, she had very little energy thanks to the wound and from digging, but, maybe, with whatever energy was left, she could try and find Hitsugaya. _Just to be sure_. In some ways, this was a silly way to redeem her actions, for not stopping him in the first place. Yet, she was concerned. Worried. Even afraid. She didn't want to imagine what he might have done.

Shunpo'ing was never easy. In her state, Rangiku struggled, but she managed. At first, it was guess work where Hitsugaya could be, but she was relieved when she felt his spirit. Stronger, but the closer she got, the more painful her wound became. Rangiku had to stop. She didn't know how far away she was from the hut, but it was too late to turn back now. Inhaling sharply, she pressed a hand to her injury, and was the least impressed to feel blood. She vanished again, reappearing a few miles ahead. Now, the freeze of the evening was starting to get to her.

Then, she realised with horror, that freeze wasn't the weather.

It was Captain Hitsugaya.

Rangiku didn't move, and let herself listen. She started to shiver, wrapping her arms around herself, and hesitantly stepped forwards. _Crunch_. Looking down, she saw the grass was frosty. Looking up, it suddenly occurred to her it was snowing. Gentle flakes, resting at her clothes and skin. Rangiku swallowed. Blood trickled down her hip from her wound, oozing through her robes. She was about to call his name, but then she heard it: screams. It was as if she were deaf for a moment, and then, all too quickly, too suddenly, her hearing came back.

Nothing stopped her from rushing forwards. It was coming someways further in the wood she was in. The trees went past in a blur while her feet carried her further and further, and she wondered if she was too late. _Again_. Always too late to save the person she was searching for. What if she arrived and Tōshirō hadn't survived? What if he might leave her too? _Please, if anyone has to leave, make it me_. She didn't pause to think when she found him. Hyōrinmaru conjured a storm of ice and wind, raised above his head, a whirlwind of fury swirling around him. Like that of a hurricane. _He_ was a hurricane.

What shocked her was where they were. The First District occupied many people, some civilised, some not. The little area Rangiku had hurried into was home to quite a number. Some were dressed like the men who appeared earlier today, but most looked– _normal_. Families of mothers, fathers and children were desperate to get away from this monster that was Hitsugaya. Some had the courage to run over and try and hurt him, but they were only thrown back by the power of his bankai. There were more dead bodies than those that were alive.

Rangiku didn't think, didn't consider, when she hurried over and grabbed his arm.

The Captain jolted, yelped possibly in pain at her touch. Before his zanpakutō stabbed her, Rangiku defended herself with Haineko. When he realised what he had done, what he almost did, Hitsugaya widened his eyes in terror. Then, he remembered Rangiku shouldn't be here. Tōshirō was about to speak, but was interrupted when someone dared approach him, blade in hand. He didn't struggle to kill the man, Hyōrinmaru slicing his neck, blood spurting everywhere. Bankai ruined by Rangiku's unexpected presence, Hitsugaya would have to start again, but he didn't bother.

Tōshirō angrily pushed her back, causing Rangiku to fall. If she wasn't injured, Rangiku would have instantly stood to her feet and stopped him, but the shock of everything made her hesitate. This wasn't Hitsugaya. Whatever this creature was she didn't like. The storm brewed again, but this time, the anger and hatred in his body was expressed and the snow, hail, sliced at her sensitive skin, making her bleed. She could only imagine how much the others were suffering. Tōshirō hadn't come here to gain vengeance on the small group who took his Grandmother away. He was taking revenge on the _entire_ village.

Usually, Hitsugaya was controlled. Today he was not.

It was as if he were a puppet, controlled by some devil above. Tōshirō was wild, slashing at every individual he could find, be it a parent, a member of that disgusting group or a child. Rangiku watched in horror as he slaughtered every one of them, and yet he remained untouched. _Untouchable_. For sure, she had underestimated just how powerful her Captain was. And so had he. His anger made him unbeatable, almost invisible.

But Matsumoto knew he was mortal.

Snatching Haineko from the ground, she zoomed forwards, and her blade was at his neck. To show she wasn't playing, Rangiku nipped his flesh slightly with the edge. Hitsugaya had ceased his murderous rage, his next opponent stumbled onto the ground, looking up at him with a mixture of hatred, awe and fear. Tōshirō did stop, he did stop fighting, but Rangiku was in for a shock. The man swivelled around on his heel and swerved his blade at her. Rangiku gasped, and, like last time, defended herself. Yet Hitsugaya wasn't going to push her away this time.

'You disobey my orders _again_, Lieutenant, then I have no choice but to be rid of you!'

'Captain––!' She wasn't allowed to speak. Tōshirō lunged for her, but Rangiku knew him all too well. She had watched him practise, watched him fight. She knew how he moved, where he aimed for. Of course she had no desire to hurt him, but she would at least defend herself. Tōshirō was speedy, the point of Hyōrinmaru darting at her constantly, again and again.

It was her wound which let her down. Being taller than she by quite a few inches, Rangiku had to raise her arm to stop his blade from hitting her. The weight of his body was too much for her currently weak frame, and his zanpakutō sliced her side. Rangiku felt tears sting her eyes, but they were out of anger. Blood poured from her fresh injury, but before she could retaliate, he grabbed Haineko from her, and pressed his lips to her ear. Whispered. 'Please... leave me be.'

That wasn't an order. It was a plea. He was _begging_ her. Hurting her was unbearable, he didn't want to do it. _But he had_. Rangiku hissed in pain, grabbed his arm, but the loss of blood was too much. Her knees buckled and she collapsed onto all fours. Tōshirō's robe was soft when he turned around, accidentally letting the fabric brush over her. She smelt him, his usual scent: strawberry and raspberry tea. It pulled at her heart strings. God, how much she wanted him back. To just _stop this_.

What was happening to him?

Rangiku had a hunch it wasn't just his Grandmother's death he was upset about.

Clearly, Tōshirō had forgotten just how stubborn she could be. Rangiku didn't leave him. Before he could kill another, she was on her feet. She didn't know what happened, how it happened, why it happened, but Hyōrinmaru had ripped through her flesh, pushed her back, and blood leaked into her mouth, onto the floor. Rangiku hadn't expected that, and by Tōshirō's expression, she knew he hadn't either. One moment, she was on the ground, the next, she was in front of him, his sword having gone all the way through her. Added to the wound he previously gave her, and the one still healing, it was a miracle Rangiku managed to remain standing.

Tōshirō was stunned.

Nothing stirred.

'Stop this.'

It was all she could say. Tōshirō's senses came back to him, and he removed Hyōrinmaru at once, and pushed her against his chest, held her tightly. Jarring his teeth, Tōshirō glared at the few people who remained alive. If it weren't for Rangiku's stubbornness, if it weren't for her duty to protect him not just from others, but from himself, he would have killed the last few. Yet, it was clear in his eyes that he was leaving with reluctance. Death swirled in his blue irises, but his hold on the girl, was so _tight_. Tōshirō pressed his lips to her forehead, then slumped his shoulders.

And they were gone.

* * *

All she could remember was the panic. His hands were rough, quick, frantic, but gentle when touching her. Rangiku was barely conscious when he ripped off her robe to inspect his damage. Tōshirō was not proud. Her vision narrowed, blurred, and she was asleep. Floating. She didn't quite know what was happening to her. Minutes, hours, she didn't know long it took until she awoke. Rangiku didn't hesitate, she sat upright instantly, ignoring the agony of her wounds.

'Captain?'

What she didn't know was that he was already there. Two cold hands cupped either side of her face, and she finally saw him. His deep, green eyes; furrowed brows. Never in her life had she witnessed him look so _guilty_ and _sorry_. He was sorry. He regretted everything he had done to her, but he couldn't speak. That was what was so special about them. Words weren't necessary. They never were.

Whatever emotion went through her in that moment, she wasn't sure. Just seeing him made her lose her breath. She placed a hand to his cheek, another at his shoulder. He was here. The anger was gone. _He was here_. Her hand came to the back of his head, squeezing his thick, white hair.

'Captain...'

Then Tōshirō sighed. 'I've covered your wounds. You need to rest.'

'Talk to me.'

'What about?'

'Just talk to me about everything for once. Stop keeping it all locked inside.' Her hand fell from his shoulder to rest at where his heart was.

Everything was so fast, but she didn't care. At the moment, all she cared about was having him close. What he had done was cruel, nasty, disgusting. Yet, she could only deal with one situation at a time. It was her duty to keep her Captain alive and _sane_. She hoped that, maybe, she helped him with his sanity. Stopped him before it all became a bit too much.

Although he was a cold man, his arms were protective when they wrapped around her sore sides. Rangiku clung to his robe, eyes on his. She wore little, but she wasn't aware. Tōshirō wasn't either. They might as well both be naked. It didn't matter.

'I didn't mean to hurt you. I don't want to hurt you.'

'I know.'

'Matsumoto– Are you okay?'

'Yes.'

His nose bumped against hers and he closed his eyes, soothed by her touch and presence. 'I can't excuse myself for what I did. I killed them. Slaughtered them as if they were animals.' Then he inhaled sharply. 'I know I should regret it, but I don't.' He jarred his teeth. 'They took what was precious of mine, so I gave them the same treatment.'

'Captain.'

'I'm sorry.'

'... Please.'

'If there is anything I regret, it's hurting you.' His hand was so soft at where he stabbed her. 'You've had such a beating.'

Rangiku sighed. 'I should expect as much when hanging around you.'

'I was scared I'd lose you. Again.'

This was hard for him, she could tell, but Rangiku wouldn't abuse his sensitive position. If anything, she was grateful. And relieved too. 'You said you wanted to be rid of me.'

'I know.' Tōshirō opened his eyes. 'I said and thought a lot of things.'

They were aware this situation wasn't going to be solved easily. No doubt Central 46 would hear about the killings and Tōshirō would receive his punishment. For now, that didn't mater. Both were accustomed to death and war. They were used to seeing others lose their lives before them. It soon became nothing. Rangiku was more horrified at what Hitsugaya had transformed into, than the amount of murders he committed. Maybe that was what made them so _odd_.

At least she felt something, though. At least she ended it before no one was left.

'Captain?'

Tōshirō closed his eyes again. 'Yes?'

'I forgive you.'

She might as well have shot him with a bullet. Tōshirō scrunched his eyes closed, and clung to her. Tears threatened to break free. 'Thank you.' A pause. 'I forgive you, too.' For leaving him. For abandoning him three years ago.

Rangiku pulled him to her, and they fell down, lying side by side. She looked at him, huddled closer while he brought his arms around her. Lowering her gaze, she saw the wound he received from Himura's men, and pressed her hand lightly there. For a while, they simply lay there, in each other's arms. There were thousands of words they wanted to say, but they said nothing. As always.

A cool hand brushed across her cheek, and glided through her auburn hair. Rangiku enjoyed his touch, treasured it, then claimed his hand in her own. 'I keep having these dreams.' He said nothing; he was listening. 'Of a man. I don't know who he is, but I feel like I know him. All I remember is him leaving me. Going somewhere I don't know.'

'Matsumoto...'

'He smells of gunpowder.' She opened her eyes a little, pressed a hand to his chest. 'And I'm always so scared of him leaving me.'

Tōshirō was silent.

'... I'm scared of being alone.' She closed her eyes. 'Of being unwanted.'

'You _are_ wanted.'

'Stay with me.'

His arms came about her waist, and she was pressed to his chest. Rangiku held his robes. 'As long as you stay with me.'

It was a relief to hear that, to know he felt the same way. Rangiku never let him go, and he didn't ever let her go either. For now, they didn't have to move. They just needed to know the other was there, and wasn't going away. That was all they needed right now. Just the comfort of being wanted. Of _belonging_ to someone. That was all they could ever ask for.

Every tension in her body relaxed when he kissed her lips. Both inhaled out of shock, but also out of relief, and they kissed once, a firm yet gentle kiss. May it be their last, or their first, it was the most powerful encounter Tōshirō had ever faced. At once his body was on fire, and he exhaled, his body shuddering, her lips warm, slightly chapped, tasting slightly of blood. And he knew that he should have done this years ago, should have done this before she left him on the battlefield. The moment Gin died.

To just hold her, kiss her.

Show that she wasn't alone.

That he would always be hers, always had been. Always would be.

Near to him, she was healing. Not just from the battles she had faced, not from the horrors she had witnessed, but from everything. From her past, from her heart being ripped in two. It was taking so long, but, finally, the remedy was working. The scars were healing. _She_ was healing.

They pulled away slowly, and she trailed her thumb across his cheek, held in his arms, protected and safe. Stepping ever closer to danger. His eyes were for her, furious, but passionate, possessing, and she knew he wouldn't ever let her go, not for anything. It was sealed, that his heart was only for her. It couldn't be clearer. His gaze captivated her, but she didn't look away, didn't back down from his hold.

The snow outside stopped falling. Rain took its place, pelting the windows, the roof and walls. It was dark, but in the dim light she could see him, his touch on her body. Neither slept, possibly in fear the other might stand and leave. The two were very capable of it.

Constantly, Tōshirō watched her. A dragon, willing to unleash.

Rangiku kept to her promise, and stayed.

* * *

**author's note**: Grandma Akari's burial in the next chapter. This chapter was quite difficult, very psychological. Writing such stubborn characters with so much baggage and emotion, it did get complicated, but this is how I perceive them. Doing absolutely anything to keep the other safe, mentally and physically. I never said this relationship was healthy. And even if it isn't, I don't brush that aside. Still, after some time, I think Hitsugaya and Matsumoto can make something work between them. Thank you **krikanalo**, **Kiwifan7** and **satigirlth** for reviewing the prior chapter.

Important note. My updates might be delayed but that doesn't mean I'm giving up on this story. Your patience is really appreciated. I just have a lot going on right now, plus this fiction is getting quite complicated to write. I shan't abandon it though, I promise, no matter how long it takes me to update.


	9. Start

Snowfall  
**Chapter 9.**

* * *

'_She's dying.'_

_Even years afterwards, he still didn't understand why he laughed. It was a puzzled chortle, in disbelief– he __**couldn't**__ believe what was happening. The last time he saw her she was fine, on her feet, excited to see him, wanting to ask thousands of questions which he refused to answer. Now, he dearly wished he had, wished he had explained to her what was going on. Why he was constantly sending her away to her Aunt's, a place she hated. Why he was always contacting her through letters, and why he always smelt of gunpowder. Why Mummy hadn't returned yet. Why little Rangiku was all alone, no one to care for her. Abandoned and unloved. How much he hoped that would never be the case._

_Turning, he looked at the doctor, and the doctor stumbled slightly, shocked at how bright the man's eyes were. A clear blue. 'How much longer does she have?' It was a poisonous question, one he knew he would be sent to Hell for. If he wasn't destined to go there already. As soon as the words escaped his lips, he regretted it. Hated himself. _

_Yet the doctor was sympathetic, and understood. 'A day. Two at most.'_

_The Father raised his brows, tears prickling his eyes, then he smiled shortly. Forced. 'Thank you.' He wasn't sure what for. Because the doctor tried what he could to keep his daughter alive, or was he thanking the doctor for telling him how much time she had left? That, she would be gone so soon. Sighing, he tried to push back the tears and focus on his child. _

'_Her infection spread so fast, Sir. I'm sorry.'_

'_Yes.'_

_Carefully, the doctor placed a hand on the man's shoulder, before walking away. _

_It was one day of leave he was rewarded, but he would be sent to the front line again, to fight for his country. To welcome the stench of death, blood and hear the screams of men. The man was a soldier of the army, a warrior. His daughter never saw him without the uniform, he was never truly __**human**__. He was never there for her, never had the opportunity to be, even when her dear Mother passed away. He was never a Father. The day he could finally spend time with her was the day she was about to die. _

_A nasty fall, landing on splintered wood. It went straight through her side. _

_Such an unfair fate for such a little girl._

_Knowing he wasn't there to help, knowing she was left there for hours until her Aunt realised she should have been home by now, that was what hurt the most. _

'_I hope –– in another life –– you won't be abandoned again.'_

_The man was about to reach for her limp hand, but was stopped when another doctor arrived._

'_You have a phone call, Sir.'_

'_Who is it?'_

'_The army, Lieutenant. Your commanding officer needs to speak with you.'_

'_Of course.' He stood to his feet. 'Thank you, doctor.' He hesitated, then walked onwards, without even so much as looking back. _

_Completely unaware that his daughter watched him leave, watched him report for duty again, push away his family in order for his position in the army. Abandon her again, even in death. Only seconds after he deserted her for the last time, did she exhale her last breath. _

_Her heart stopped. _

* * *

Finally, the pouring rain ceased. The lack of noise was what woke her up. For a moment, Rangiku lay there, her mind going over the dream she just had. It was odd, but made sense, it felt familiar. The man, her Father, _the smell of gunpowder_. The War. The Army. Their letters. The fact she never saw his face–– or, _rarely_ did. He was always absent, always away, sometimes returning with horrid wounds. Everything came flowing back to her and she shivered. It was an uncomfortable sensation.

Then she remembered Tōshirō. Rangiku gasped and felt the empty space beside her, then sat upright. It was a silly thought she had. That he had left her in the night. Raising her head, she saw his Granny's corpse was missing. Seething in pain, she struggled to her feet and stepped out of the hut. A few metres away was Tōshirō, gently placing his Granny into the grave dug by Rangiku. There was no wind, rain or snow. Not even sun. Just a grey midst. A fitting but haunting atmosphere.

Rangiku was hindered slightly by her near-fatal wounds, but she reached him, claimed the sleeve of his robe. And he looked at her, eyes so dark and green, so warm. Gently, he claimed her hand, before letting her go, grabbing the shovel and pouring the soil back inside the hole, the body within. Rangiku held herself, watched in silence while he performed the burial, and once the last grain of soil was placed, he stopped. Tōshirō was quiet, stabbing the shovel into the ground and leaning his weight on it.

Silence. Rangiku continued to watch him, as if waiting for him to say something, or maybe voice a command. Nothing. A man retired from work and action for now. She winced when she walked to him, reached over to touch him, then hesitated. Maybe she should turn around and leave him. However, Tōshirō made no motion or order. She was free to do as she wished. To grab Haineko from inside and stab him through the chest, give him a fate he truly deserved.

After what he said early this morning, though, when he kissed her, how gentle his lips were against hers, how much love she witnessed in those irises. Rangiku couldn't. He was much too important to her. Rangiku would never dream of hurting him. Not again.

_I've learnt_.

They never had to speak, though. Communication wasn't vital. Rangiku dropped her gaze, watched his hand clench and unclench. Then he raised his head, and she followed his line of gaze. There was no mistake: several Shinigami were headed their way, each armed with a zanpakutō. Rangiku knew they would come, but not so fast. Word got around quick in Rukongai. Tōshirō's killing spree must have reached the Gotei fast. Some of the Shinigami were recognised.

Rangiku wanted to grab her Captain's hand, comfort him, but he didn't need assurance. Tōshirō stepped in front of her, and she was relieved to discover Hyōrinmaru was strapped to his back. Would he fight? Would he defend himself for what he did? If that be so, then where did Rangiku's loyalty lie? With him? Even after everything he did?

... Then she realised, there was no need to question.

She would follow Captain Hitsugaya into Hell if he asked.

Yet he made no motion to grab his blade. He was aware why they had come, how they found him so easily. Tōshirō focussed on each one of them, on how nervous they were, what they were thinking. Only a few were uncertain about what he might do. His eyes caught sight of Kira, who looked surprisingly confident, but Hitsugaya knew he was wondering whether he might attack. With good reason, too.

'Captain Hitsugaya,' one of them said. It was a smooth voice, one he hadn't heard in over a year. His smooth voice reflected his appearance: a curled moustache, dark eyes and dark hair. Tōshirō was hoping they wouldn't have to see each other again when he was sent on a long mission into the Material World.

'Ito.' Hitsugaya raised his chin.

'I was hoping we would meet again. I have missed you. But, I must say, seeing you like this– I'm not complaining.'

'I refuse to speak to you. Who's the man in charge?'

'I am, unfortunately,' Ito said. 'Yes, it seems I have been given control of everyone here, and that also means you and––' He stopped short. 'Oh, I'm so sorry, madam. Have we met before?'

_Madam_? Before Rangiku could retort, Hitsugaya interjected her. 'That's not of your concern. I'll only speak to Captain-Commander Kyōraku. Understand?'

'I'm sure you would,' Ito smirked. 'Kyōraku is... not available at present.'

Tōshirō looked at Kira, but whether he was asking for confirmation or an explanation, it was fruitless. He knew Kira couldn't do anything. 'I see.'

'However, I am following his orders. He wanted you back at the Gotei as soon as possible, to then be directed to Central 46. You've been a naughty boy, Captain.'

At that, seven Shinigami approached him, but Tōshirō made them hesitate when he covered the ground with ice, stopping them from nearing. Rangiku didn't know who this Ito was, and she expected he had shown his face when she was absent for three years. By his uniform, she could tell he was of high rank, but not necessarily a Captain. Had some rules changed at the Gotei while she was away?

Tutting to himself, Ito stepped forward. 'Don't make this more difficult than it is, Hitsugaya.'

'_Captain_.' Tōshirō frowned. 'That's _Captain_.'

'Apologies. _Captain_ Hitsugaya. Kira, you can take care of him, seeing as you two know each other the best. Be gentle with the lady as well.' Ito's smile fell. 'It seems there's been more blood shed than we thought.'

'You bastard!' Hitsugaya exclaimed. To hear this man shout was frightening, it even made Ito falter. 'If you even _assume_ I meant deliberate harm on Matsumoto––'

'Matsumoto. Oh yes!' Ito clicked his fingers. 'The lass you left to die three years ago? That was a gripping story, Captain. How nice to know you've conjured more wounds on your precious puppet.'

'Puppet? You seem to be mistaking loyalty for manipulation,' Rangiku snapped.

Ito looked at her, and cocked a brow. 'Huh.' Then he smirked. 'I think you and I have a lot to discuss, Matsumoto. Kira, do I have to repeat myself?' He turned and ordered two other Shinigami to aid the blond. 'This is going to be a lot of fun. I can't wait to tell Kyōraku how _easy_ it was to find you.'

And to everyone's surprise, Tōshirō didn't retaliate or struggle when Kira took Hyōrinmaru from him, and the other two Shinigami cuffed his hands.

'If you really thought you'd get away with murdering nearly one-hundred innocent civilians of Soul Society, then you must be an idiot,' Ito said, his smirk fading away slightly. 'Don't make me want to fight you, Captain Hitsugaya. I'm only doing my duty.'

'As am I.'

* * *

There was nothing welcoming about the Gotei 13 when Tōshirō returned, but he didn't care. The man was escorted by three Shinigami towards his prison cell. There was nothing luxurious about it. Inside, it was damp and cold, and unforgiving. He sat on his stool, let the gate close, and while there were shouting men and yelling women, Tōshirō remained silent. He was not a man of words. He was a man of action. And so he sat there, waiting for his court hearing.

Of course, there wasn't much point. Yes, he had killed many, and he was lucky Rangiku had been there to stop him for committing further murder. He sighed, and decided to just think about her. She was the only individual who knew him for what he was. Now that his Grandmother was gone, he felt as if the only person left was Rangiku. Even though he should feel worried about that, he didn't. There were millions and millions of souls, and, in the end, he only required hers to keep going.

Yes. That was enough.

* * *

'Maybe it's because I have a soft spot for women, I don't know,' Ito said, pouring two glasses of whiskey. 'However I felt we needed to have a conversation, clear everything up. After all, we've never met before, have we?' Smiling, he approached Rangiku and passed her a glass. She looked at it, then his face, and refused to take it. Realising this, he awkwardly placed the glass down. 'Alcohol would help with the pain.'

'I don't drink.' That was probably the worst lie she had ever told.

'Oh. I see.' Ito proceeded to sit down in his chair. 'You're wounded, Matsumoto. Why not take a seat?'

'I'm fine.'

'Of course you are.' Sarcasm. So she smiled sarcastically back. 'Well, this is my office. I'm currently doing Kyōraku's work while he's absent from the Gotei 13 with his Lieutenant.' She didn't want to hear that. The one person she wanted to talk to, aside from Hitsugaya, was her best friend Nanao. To know what she thought of the situation. 'Don't see me as the bad guy, Matsumoto. I was only obeying his orders. Word got round fast about what Hitsugaya had done.'

'_Captain_ Hitsugaya.'

'––about what Captain Hitsugaya had done.'

Rangiku nodded. 'Mm, you're going to be hearing a _lot_ of gossip around here.'

'Are you implying that Tōshirō– _Captain _Hitsugaya didn't kill anyone?'

'Oh, I'm not implying anything.'

'Did you witness the event?'

'I'd be a lousy Lieutenant if I didn't.' She looked at him. 'Why? Did you?'

Ito ignored her and approached his desk, grabbing a notepad and pen. 'You are to tell me what happened.'

'That's such a silly thing to command, isn't it? For all you know I might just make up a story? Oops, did I say too much?'

'You're not funny.'

'No. I'm not. I'm hilarious.'

Ito pulled a blunt face. 'Your darling Captain is in prison currently, and, for all I know, the Court are going to want him executed. Matsumoto, you could save him if you report to me what happened. If he didn't do it, then tell me now.'

Rangiku eyed the notepad, and knew he was right. She could write down what she witnessed, but she was a soldier who promised to always tell the truth. If she were to tell the truth, she wouldn't help Hitsugaya's case. He had murdered. He had killed men and women who didn't deserve to be killed. Before she was dragged into Ito's office, she knew what he was going to ask. She knew Hitsugaya was stepping closer to his death, to leave her forever.

... and, for once, there was absolutely nothing she could do.

'When can I speak to my Captain?' Rangiku asked, looking away.

'Soon.' Ito placed the notepad on the table before her. 'Think about it, Matsumoto. At the Gotei, we only do what is right––'

'I have been a Shinigami here longer than you have. Do not assume so little of me. I know _exactly_ how the Gotei works and, believe me, when it comes to right and wrong, it doesn't matter. The quickest way to solve something is by getting rid of anyone who causes a disruption. It doesn't matter whether they did the right thing or not.' Rangiku rolled her eyes. 'I don't want to talk to someone who has little experience.' Then, to push it, she added. 'No offence.'

'None taken,' Ito muttered bitterly. 'Is there anyone you want to speak to?'

She only wanted to speak to Captain Hitsugaya, but knew that wasn't an option right now. There was only one person who would be sympathetic and understanding. 'Captain Ukitake.' Before Ito could step in to escort her, she said, 'I can take myself. I don't need a man to escort me somewhere. Let alone an idiot.'

'That's just as well, Matsumoto.'

Ignoring him, Rangiku reached the door and was about to open it, when something sharp hissed past her ear, cutting her flesh, and then stabbing into the lock. Quickly recovering, Rangiku dropped her gaze to the zanpakutō, and then tried to open the door. Not to her surprise, it refused to budge. Rangiku grabbed the handle and attempted to pull it out, but failed, and when she tried again, she felt her side rip open again from when Hitsugaya stabbed her.

Damn it.

Ito stepped forwards, and effortlessly removed the blade.

'There's something special about my zanpakutō. It's weightless for me, but if anyone else were to carry it, they would be weighed down completely.'

Rangiku should have seen this coming.

'You're not going anywhere, Lieutenant. Not under my watch.'

* * *

**author's note**: Thank you **krikanalo**, **Kiwifan7**, **[ Guest ]**, **sagitgirlth**, **The Last Ronin **and **Sameer0007** for reviewing the prior chapter.


	10. Watch

Snowfall  
**Chapter 10.**

* * *

'Hitsugaya?'

Raising his head, Tōshirō frowned. '_Captain _Hitsugaya. You should know better, Kira.'

It was obvious why Kira didn't refer to Tōshirō appropriately. A Captain under arrest always had his position suspended, and this was the case for Tōshirō. Kira didn't have a choice. Instead of retorting, the blond unlocked the barred door and opened it. 'You're to attend your Court Hearing, Hitsugaya.' He paused, swallowed. 'Unfortunately, it... doesn't look like there's much hope.'

What he said was enough for Tōshirō to know Kira was on his side. However, discussing the matter with him would be risky. Without a doubt, Ito had Shinigami on his side who would be more than willing to hear in on their conversation. Standing to his feet, Tōshirō nodded. 'Is Hyōrinmaru safe?'

'Yes, Hitsugaya. Safe.'

Tōshirō frowned lightly. 'And Matsumoto?'

'Under Ito's watch. She's safe, too.'

'Try and make it clear to him that she isn't a part of my dealings.'

'I'm afraid Ito wouldn't be convinced.' Kira cleared his throat, and handcuffed Tōshirō's wrists behind his back. 'For the record, I doubt Matsumoto would appreciate that anyway.'

Tōshirō allowed a small chuckle. 'True.' That didn't mean he wasn't worrying about her, though. Clenching a fist, he just hoped she would be okay. Yes, she could manage by herself, but he would rather be with her than not.

With Kira escorting him, Tōshirō knew there wasn't any point in trying to escape. The Gotei had the best security possible, and using his abilities would be fruitless. Word must have got around quickly that Tōshirō was walking around as a criminal. The Gotei wasn't stupid enough to not be prepared in case anything happened. Even if he _were_ innocent, the guards wouldn't care. He was an enemy as soon as suspicion was called.

It would be nice to talk to Rangiku, at least once. Tōshirō already knew his fate; it was obvious. After working within the Gotei for so many years, he was aware of the punishments. And he was aware of the punishments received to people like he. Murder was not tolerated. He wasn't going to object to that, but he wasn't going to deny he would rather speak to Rangiku first. As far as he was concerned, she was the only person on his side and he didn't want to lose that. Lose her.

The chains were very heavy on his wrists and by the time they reached Central 46, his arms were aching. However, he didn't complain, and instead remained completely stoic. Being questioned was incredibly risky, and if he revealed any signs of guilt, the judges would latch onto such signs and use them against him. Then again, there wasn't much point in trying to be so secretive. It was clear what he had done, and he wasn't going to deny his actions.

Glancing over at the large clock across the room, he saw it was nearing five in the afternoon.

'In twenty hours,' he said quietly to Kira, 'Try and find Kyōraku if he hasn't already returned.'

'Why?'

'Because I'll be dead.'

* * *

There was something amusing about Ito's tea mugs. Pretty pink flowers were decorated across the china, and the tea he poured smelt far too fruity for a man. An odd feeling swelled within Rangiku when she recognised the tea scent very well. Peach flavoured tea. Nearly a year ago she had given Tōshirō a Birthday gift containing a variety of different flavoured tea bags. Clearly Ito was quite a tea fan as well. When the man placed a mug onto her side of the desk, she refused to take a sip. Once, she might have fooled around and had some, but her amusement and sarcasm had gone.

Only half an hour ago was she informed that Captain Hitsugaya was on his way to his Court Hearing. Or, in a clearer sense, his death. Rangiku wanted to behave naïvely and assume that he would be all right. The judges would realise his innocence and let him go. But Tōshirō _wasn't_ innocent. She had been there, and tried to stop him from killing anyone else. While a few survived, the majority had fallen victim to his wrath. For sure, an uncontrollable man like Tōshirō should not be kept alive.

Rangiku didn't really care for reputation. Ever since she joined the Shinigami Academy, she received insult after insult from her fellow females. It was clearly envy of her appearance and figure, but, over time, the rumours began. It was remarkable. She spent more time with Gin than anyone and yet it was assumed she slept around, and had no decency. All of this was rooted towards her appearance. Prejudice was strong within the Gotei, and so worrying about one's reputation was worthless.

So, in knowing that Tōshirō would be walking to his death, Rangiku didn't care how that made her look. As his Vice-Captain, she should have made sure he wouldn't fall into this path. She _should_ have protected him from insanity. Now, everyone would know that she failed and she was not a competent colleague. But she didn't care. She didn't care if she appeared incompetent and silly. Stupid. She didn't care what they all thought, because it didn't matter to her.

What mattered was Tōshirō.

Knowing that he might –– _would_ –– die, was enough to make her heart stop completely. However, Rangiku didn't even flinch at the news. Her Captain wouldn't want her to make it clear what he meant to her. And she knew he would do the exact same. Even though they were apart and probably would be forever, she would still follow his advice and orders.

Ito sat down opposite her, and smiled. 'I do apologise for the way I behaved earlier. It was completely out of order.' He gestured his head towards Rangiku's tea. 'Please, have some. It's peach flavoured.'

'I'm not thirsty.'

'Ooh, Matsumoto, don't be like that. Grumpiness doesn't suit you.'

'Mm. Authority doesn't suit you, either.'

Ito cocked a brow. 'You see me as the bad guy, don't you?'

'No,' Rangiku shook her head lightly. 'I just see you as the guy who's following orders. A _bad_ guy makes his own rules, and _knows_ he's bad.' She pulled a crooked smile. 'I have a bit of a soft spot for them.'

Leaning forwards, he pulled a face at her. 'You're still making jokes.' He scowled. 'Do you not realise the situation you're in? Or are the rumours true? Are you _really_ just an airhead who's only employed by Hitsugaya because of your looks?'

'Please.' Rangiku laughed. 'You honestly have no idea who Captain Hitsugaya is. I could walk into the same room as him wearing nothing but lingerie, and he wouldn't even bat an eye.'

'Have you tried that?'

Rangiku narrowed her brows. 'Maybe. Why?' She gasped. 'Have you?'

'You're not funny.' Ito muttered. 'You don't need to have such an attitude with me. You're here so I can keep you out of trouble, and you'll be safe here as well.'

Rangiku refrained herself from rolling her eyes. Maybe he was bluffing, but it was certainly _typical_ of a man having the urge to "protect" her. What bullocks. 'And who's going to keep you safe, hm?'

'Why? Are you going to pounce?'

'Would you like it if I did?'

'Most ladies who have dared pounce at me usually end up on their back by the end. Quite a pleasant sight.'

'I'm sure those ladies wish the feeling were mutual.'

'Sarcasm makes you less pretty, you realise?'

'Thanks for the advice, but I don't appreciate limitations being placed on my beauty.'

Ito stopped, sighed and stood up. He approached the chair she was sitting at and walked behind it, pausing. Rangiku didn't move, but she could sense his spiritual pressure very well. Every movement. A hand gently rested at her shoulder. 'You're trying so hard, aren't you? I know _exactly_ how you feel about Captain Tōshirō.' He waited for her to correct him, but Rangiku was silent. 'You know what he did. We both do. I know you hate me, but there's nothing I can do to change the Court's mind. He murdered hundreds and he shall receive a just punishment.'

Silence.

'Do you object to his punishment?'

Rangiku shrugged. 'It's not my place to say.'

'No? Does a Vice-Captain not possess the _authority_ to do that? You should feel more afraid, Matsumoto. They'll be after you next.'

'Those who allegedly possess authority don't frighten me.' She turned around to look at him. 'They do you, though.' Then she smiled, daringly. 'As if I care who they're after next. They can do what they wish with me. I know what happened and I know what my Captain expects of me.' She turned to face forwards again. 'And I only take orders from my Captain.'

'Your loyalty is strong,' Ito said, proceeding for his desk. 'Does such loyalty exist when the man you love dearly is gone?' He turned and their gaze met. He smiled. 'You know what I'm talking about. Three years ago. The Frozen War. Do you know why they call it that?' Rangiku said nothing, because she knew why. 'Captain Tōshirō is a monster, and on the battlefield, he was merciless and cold. He was seduced by blood and death, and nothing could stop him. That man wasn't even _human_ anymore. Every ounce of humanity was taken away from him in those few, pitiful hours.'

Rangiku raised her eyes to look at Ito. 'You weren't there at the battle. How would you know?'

However, it was very, _very_ clear.

'I survived.'

Ito leaned against the desk, and folded his arms.

'Believe me, I was lucky to have escaped. Captain Tōshirō would have eaten me alive if he realised I was fighting amongst the Quincy.'

Rangiku couldn't stop herself. She started laughing, and Ito noted how the temperature in the room had risen severely. Leaning over, Rangiku took hold of her mug and took a sip. 'This tastes fantastic. I'm sure your defeat will taste even sweeter, though.'

'You sound just like him.'

'Oops? Are you going to punish me too?'

'Careful, Matsumoto.' Ito's smile slowly faded. 'I'm not a kind man when my feelings are hurt.'

_Clash!_

Before the mug even smashed across the floor, Rangiku had shot to her feet and unsheathed her zanpakutō, quickly defending herself from Ito's blow. A cruel laugh escaped the male Shinigami's lips. 'Oh gosh, you're fast!' Jarring his teeth, he pushed, in an attempt to weigh her down. 'Remember what I told you?'

Rangiku grimaced. The weight from his zanpakutō was terribly heavy. She had never pushed against such a force in her life. Although she was very strong herself, she admittedly didn't know if she could manage. Ito grinned, and didn't release her. It was only when Rangiku tried to balance herself did she feel one of her wounds tear open.

Ignoring the blood trickling down her hip, she tackled against his strength.

'My zanpakutō is heavy. So heavy I could make a mountain crumble just by tapping its rock. Believe me, I've pinned down the strongest of men. They're completely useless against me.'

'That's where you made your mistake.'

'What...?'

'I'm a woman. Not a man.'

Ito felt the air leave him when she kneed him in the groin. Before he could stand straight, Rangiku's foot whacked him straight in the face. Ito flew back, hitting hard into the desk. Raising his brows, he choked slightly, and grabbed his sword. 'Very good, Matsumoto. Captain Tōshirō has trained you well.'

'Excuse you!' Rangiku charged forwards and her zanpakutō met his with an ear-splitting _clang_. 'I trained _by myself_.' Ito's forehead was sweating from the increasing heat in the room, and he gasped, suddenly realising what was happening.

For the next few seconds, the two danced around the other, their blades hitting again and again in a fast blur. Their zanpakutō came together again, and Ito's sword scratched against her own.

'There's so much grief inside you, Matsumoto. Your spiritual pressure _reeks_ of it.'

Rangiku tried to ignore him, but she couldn't deny that the warmth from her spirit was becoming uncontrollable.

'He's on your mind, isn't he?' Then his expression softened. 'Love is a complex thing, isn't it?' She broke free from him, and he darted at her, the point of his zanpakutō almost grazing her cheek. 'Especially the love of a.. _parent_. You're scared. You _are_, I can tell. Even if you deny it.'

'You're only embarrassing yourself by making these silly assumptions.'

'Maybe.' Ito let his zanpakutō rest at his side. 'But I know it's the truth. Poor Captain Tōshirō. The ugly shit was thrown right at him. I heard about Captain Ichimaru's death a long while ago. You hide your sadness well.'

'He's gone.'

'Sharp tongue. Only shows your desperation to change the subject.' Ito frowned. 'I wonder how Captain Tōshirō will feel when he finds out you associate him with Captain Ichimaru? Poor boy. He would feel absolutely heartbroken.' Ito pulled a crooked smile. 'Heartbroken that you don't trust him. That you _expect_ him to leave you. Poor, _poor_ Rangiku. No one has _ever_ cared or waited for her. Even the man she's grown to love is abandoning her this very second. How _awful_ that you were never wanted, right from the very beginning.'

'_I'm scared of being alone... of being unwanted.'_

'_You __**are**__ wanted.'_

The words from Tōshirō ran in her mind, and she tried to believe him. Even then, though, she couldn't help but doubt what he said. One day, he would have to leave her. Being wanted. How silly. How silly and pathetic. Of _course_ she hated being alone. Of _course_ she had this need to feel wanted. The dreams which kept reappearing, of a man who smelt of gunpowder. Memories of a boy who always smiled and whispered lies of love.

And an angel, dressed in snow, guilt flooding in his eyes.

Because that angel knew his wings wouldn't hold onto her forever.

She, an unwanted girl.

Rangiku clung onto Haineko tightly, and could feel the blade's spirit cling onto her. This was a test, surely. Captain Hitsugaya would break, he would have fallen apart and lashed out. Yet, even though she might sound like him at times, she wasn't him. Nothing like him. And maybe it was weak that she didn't bother to retaliate. This was a battle which could go on and on. They were equally matched, and Ito was also aware of this.

It all came down to pride.

Rangiku was not victim to her own pride, at least.

Ito sheathed his zanpakutō and raised his chin. 'You're in his thoughts. I know that because I'm particularly sensitive to one's spirit. Captain Tōshirō is concentrating on you, not the Court Hearing.' He nodded. 'That's a loyalty unheard of between a Captain and Vice-Captain.'

She didn't need to be informed of this. Haineko remained in her hand when she felt a sudden jolt. It was sharp and quick, sudden. A revelation.

But she wasn't surprised. She was expecting this feeling to happen soon.

'The Hearing has ended,' Ito said. 'Care to tell me the result?'

Rangiku slowly felt her own life drain away, but she continued to stand, as if expecting Ito to attack her again. 'No. _You_ know.'

'It's interesting. You hold no remorse for him, even when he deserted you three years ago.'

Only a few seconds passed until Rangiku began to feel cold. A shiver shot up her spine, and it was as if two, strong _freezing_ arms had wrapped around her waist, pulled her close. A white cloud of smoke escaped her lips when she exhaled.

It was getting cold.

* * *

There was just one question Kira had to ask. Once the door was firmly shut, locked securely, Kira hesitated and stood outside for a couple of seconds. Now, Hitsugaya had been stripped from his Shinigami uniform and forced into white robes. Shameful attire, revealing his guilty mind and what his fate was. Yet, despite such horrific news, Tōshirō revealed no signs of remorse or anxiety. In fact, Kira might as well pronounce him dead already, he was so emotionless.

Yet even though he had his moments, Kira was smart. He knew Tōshirō felt emotions, and that his execution had made something snap within the Captain. How he felt, though, Kira would never know. Never had he been placed in this position. Stripped from his zanpakutō and confined into a room where his abilities were made redundant, Tōshirō still appeared frightening, so Kira didn't hang around for very long.

'Do you regret what you did?'

Tōshirō inhaled and looked at him. 'I'm a soldier, Kira. If you waste hours thinking back and wishing, how can you ever look forward?'

'You have such limited time, Hitsugaya.' Despite his words, Kira was sympathetic. 'Why not think back now?'

'Yes, you're right. My time _is_ limited.' Yet the man offered no answer to the blond's question. Instead, he proceeded for the tiny window ahead. Little light was given through the small crack, and he didn't have a view either, but to hear voices outside was somewhat reassuring. 'We're done here, Kira.'

Tōshirō didn't wait for him to leave. Sitting onto a slightly higher platform, he rested his head against the wall. Sure, he could think back and regret. He could regret losing his temper and killing all of those people, but there wasn't any point. Those people were dead, and when it came to fighting, Tōshirō had murdered far more at war.

As far as he was concerned, there wasn't any difference.

Innocent lives would always be stolen.

_Death God, indeed_.

Tōshirō remembered when Rukia was to be sentenced to death. He remembered that very well, and was secretly thankful that Ichigo saved her in time. Tōshirō snorted. The last thing he wanted was for that irritating, cocky, idiotic ginger to come save him now. Running a hand through his hair, Tōshirō closed his eyes. There was nothing he could do. Absolutely nothing and he loathed this feeling of weakness.

When the door opened, he was shocked, wondering if it might be Rangiku, but his heart fell when he realised it was one of the guards. Roughly, the guard handcuffed one of his wrists to the wall, before exiting. Tōshirō frowned. Clearly the Court were paranoid about him escaping. So, was a single handcuff going to stop him?

In all fairness, the Court's judges didn't have the brightest of minds.

Anyway, chaining him was pointless. He couldn't leave.

Several hours ticked past, more hours and he was certain midnight had gone. There was something awfully sad about him having to wait for his death. Jarring his teeth, he _wished_ it wouldn't have to end like this. That he could have one final treat or gift or whatever it took to see Rangiku once more. Away from her, he couldn't deny his feelings for much longer. They were ripping at him like knives, and the thought of her was almost too painful.

_I've abandoned her_.

Tōshirō had never felt more ashamed.

_I lied_.

The door creaked open again, but this time Tōshirō didn't turn to see who it was. Footsteps approached, but they were a lot lighter and softer than the guard's. The footsteps stopped, and that was when Tōshirō looked around. Nothing could make him feel this way. Absolutely nothing. Until now. A horrible, terrible feeling of happiness rippled through him and he felt tears sting his eyes.

'Matsumoto.'

Was he dreaming? Or had he been drugged? Was this some last cruel revenge from the Gotei for what he did? Tōshirō didn't stand, and Rangiku didn't move closer towards him. Maybe this wasn't a dream, or an hallucination. Because her expression stung with so many emotions he could barely look at her. One single thought travelled through his mind, and he couldn't stop it, couldn't cease the torture. _I've failed you_.

Tōshirō started to feel nauseous.

'Are you supposed to be here?'

'Yes. But I should be chained to the wall with you, Captain.'

Then he shook his head. 'Have you been granted permission to see me?'

'Why do you care?' Rangiku said, stepping forwards and kneeling beside him. Tōshirō met her blue eyes, and trembled slightly. Her hand was warm at his shoulder. 'I was going to see you whether or not I received permission so d–– Don't ask me that!'

'I'm sorry.'

Rangiku wasn't angry. Nor was she annoyed. Her expression softened. 'I wanted to see you.'

And he wanted to see her. Tōshirō sighed and stood to his feet, to which Rangiku followed suit. That was when she was able to to see him properly, see him without his Shinigami uniform, without his zanpakutō and without his abilities. Yet, despite his loss, he had never looked so _proud_. His eyes were glowing in the dim light, his hair white and wild, and his flesh was torn and shadowed.

She had never seen anyone or anything more beautiful in her life.

Captivated, Rangiku was silent while he tried to figure out his thoughts. There were a lot of things to say, but most of the words had already been spoken. Swallowing, he closed his eyes. 'You have a right to feel disappointed in me, after what I did. I understand if you agree with my execution. I shan't deny that I deserve it.'

'You don't have to go ahead and sound all noble.'

'Matsumoto––'

'And _Disappointed_? Captain– Tōshirō, I don't feel disappointed in you. If I was going to feel disappointed in you because you lost your temper, then I would have left your side years ago. I've seen death happen countless times, and I've had to watch many innocent people die. It's my job, it's my duty and it's what I do. So don't assume that I can't _handle_ death! I can handle this. I can handle your anger.'

Tōshirō clenched a fist. 'I could have killed you.'

'I could kill you right now. There's nothing that's stopping me from letting you out of your misery.'

Then he stepped forwards, and the chain rattled furiously, stretching as far as it could. Rangiku didn't move, but his abrupt movement had her paralysed. He was a dragon, and his wings were desperate to fly and unleash Hell. But she wasn't afraid. She wasn't, and she never would be. Tōshirō's breath made her lips freeze. 'Do it, then. Out of everyone, you deserve to kill me the most. I've left you when you needed my aid, and I've thrown away my duty in order to have my revenge. So kill me.'

He was so close, too close. Their noses were practically touching. 'I might prefer to watch you suffer.'

'And wait? Like you've done for me? How many hours have you wasted waiting for me, Rangiku?'

When he spoke her name, she shivered. 'And how many hours have you wasted grieving over my problems? You allowed my sorrows to become yours.'

'I know.' Tōshirō didn't hesitate. 'Aren't I a fool?'

'Yes. You are. You are the biggest fool I've ever had the displeasure of meeting.'

Tōshirō didn't move, and the chain struggled to pull him back. 'Good. Because I'll be gone tomorrow, and out of your life. That means you won't _ever_ have to worry about feeling abandoned again, Rangiku.' He didn't bother to stop the tears now. There wasn't any point. 'You don't have to worry about being wanted, because you won't _ever_ be wanted again. Not when I'm dead.'

'.. Losing you was my only fear.'

'Then that fear shall be no more.' Tōshirō swallowed. 'Because the man you fear losing won't even exist.'

Rangiku said nothing. Unlike he, she wasn't going to let her emotions spill. He was hurting her, carving his name into her heart, but his eyes told the truth. While his words were not lies, he wasn't saying what he truly wanted to say. Reaching over, she let a warm, soft hand trail down his cheek and he closed his eyes, melting into her touch.

'It's humiliating for me, all of this.' He opened his eyes. 'You don't deserve to see me in this state.'

Pressing a hand at the back of his head, Rangiku forced his lips onto hers. Unlike last time, they weren't gentle, and Rangiku wasn't playing. She reflected her passion in battle, a burning fire, unwilling to be defeated and absolutely in charge. Her lips were rough against his own, tongue sweet but demanding, and he struggled to fight her, only to forfeit. Rangiku was seductive and fierce, and he was not a man who liked to be defeated. He fought with her, his free hand reaching forwards and pulling at her robes so their chest were pressed together.

Both arms around his neck, she clung to him, nipping at his lower lip, before kissing the blood away, and, gradually, they slowed, bruised lips gentler and softer. Rangiku ran a hand through his thick hair, and they kissed some more, again, again, and finishing slowly, hesitantly, _reluctantly_. Tōshirō's eyes remained closed while she looked up at him, and she was haunted with the idea that she would never see him ever again.

'You're all I could want, Captain.'

_Don't go_, he wanted to say. He wanted to hold onto her, and refuse to release her even if demanded. But Tōshirō was never a needy man. His eyes opened slightly, and she caught a hint of green, as powerful as ever. Then he stepped back, a metre away from her.

'Time to go, Matsumoto.'

Rangiku was aware her time was nearly up. She glanced at him once, looked at the man she had only come to love this much, before swivelling around on her heel and leaving. When the door slammed shut, Tōshirō was left with an ugly, cruel silence.

_Find me on the other side, my love_.

* * *

**author's note**: Quite a bundle of unanswered questions left here, but don't panic. All shall (hopefully) make (more) sense later on. Thank you **[ timelapse ]**, **janzen222**, **sagitgirlth**, **The Last Ronin**, **koryandr **and **[ Guest** **]** for reviewing the prior chapter.


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